Drabbles 2014
by Stephane Richer
Summary: a collection of Kuroko no Basuke drabbles, originally published on tumblr in 2014. Various characters, pairings, ratings, genres, and themes.
1. January

Drabbles 2014 Part 1

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Notes: A collection of Kuroko no Basuke drabbles written in 2014, originally published on my tumblr. This chapter contains material originally published from 1/18-1/31

* * *

1. Fooling Himself (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou) written for anon

Midorima's knee-jerk reaction would be to say that he hates Aomine. After all, Aomine was the one who started the collapse of the Teikou team. He's overly self-important and refuses to play by the rules; his shots should not work but they do, and for someone who spends hours every day making sure his form is perfect and not a millimeter off, well, to say that it's agonizingly aggravating would be a bit of an understatement. He's rude and unkempt and irresponsible and a shameless pervert. So Midorima should hate him, but somehow he can't be entirely certain.

If he hates Aomine, why does he think about him so much? Sure, he feels kind of funny inside when he thinks about him, but it's not like his anger is at odds with his desire for Aomine to just vanish from existence altogether. He hates cats, but he hates thinking about them and their claws and swishing tails and he shudders and tries to block them from his mind and that's not how he feels about Aomine at all. And part of him actually kind of looks forward to seeing him, not just in the context of a basketball game (for as frustrating as Aomine's style of play is, it's a welcome challenge) but he kind of wants to catch Aomine staring at his ass again, creates imaginary arguments with him in his mind. Maybe Miyaji's right and he's just a weirdo. Or maybe he's just overthinking things (he has to be if he's actually seriously considering Miyaji's nonsense). Either way, it's troubling to say the least.

* * *

2. Under No Circumstances (Miyaji Kiyoshi/Takao Kazunari) written for princesswindnight

Takao Kazunari is the brattiest kouhai Miyaji Kiyoshi has ever had the misfortune of meeting. This includes all the middle school first-years who thought they were hot shit because they'd made it through sixth grade, that damn Hayama kid, Midorima, and every other horrible little shit. Takao teases him, disrespects him, laughs at him, and has the nerve to be a far better basketball player than he is. There's definitely nothing attractive about that, nope. There's nothing about Takao that he likes, not even one bit. The only reason his blood is pumping faster when he's in Takao's presence is because he's angry, okay? It has nothing at all to do with any—any _feelings_he might have. Other than annoyance.

And he is certainly not _in love_ with the damn brat, okay? Kimura can make stupid little jokes (which aren't funny at all) about it all he wants, but Miyaji is not in love with him at all, under any circumstances. The way he juts out his chin isn't cute, it's…something other than cute. And Miyaji most definitely has not spent hours memorizing the way his hair frames his face. That's not what's in his mind when he falls asleep. He doesn't think about the way Takao says his name, only that his tone isn't being respectful. That is absolutely the only thing he's listening for, so Kimura should stop looking for things that aren't there. Because this is not love, it's something else, okay?

* * *

3. Don't Insult the Cupcake (Harasawa Katsunori/Araki Masako) written for lyra-the-musician

She slams the plate down on the table.

"I made it especially for you, so you'd better like it."

He cautiously glances at the cupcake. It actually looks good—he had no idea Masako could cook. Well, he doesn't know if she can; appearances can be deceiving. He hasn't actually eaten this yet. She just doesn't seem like the type who'd make a lot of cupcakes, what with running a biker gang and training for basketball. When did she find the time to learn how to bake? (He certainly hasn't, and he's probably got more free time than she does.)

"Don't insult the cupcake, Harasawa."

"What?"

"Eat it."

She practically shoves it in his mouth. Katsunori almost chokes on it at first, but…it's really good. It's moist and rich and the frosting is creamy and he knows if Coach were here he'd get yelled at because it's probably got like 4000 calories of pure carbs.

"This is actually pretty good."

"You sound surprised," she says.

He licks his lips. "You want a taste?"

He doesn't see her fist flying toward his face until it's far too late.

* * *

4. Half-Forgotten (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun) written for daphneduzie

An expanse of steel grey, a silk tie brushing across her arm. She remembers books folded on the gable, dog-eared pages and creased spines, fingers longer than her own resting on the pages. She remembers the way it feels to release a basketball from her fingers; she remembers Hyuuga yelling at her for not passing to him, or for making bad jokes—but there are other things, flickering around her edges, that she can't quite place.

She retraces the route to work with her sister the first day, and the little things are oddly comforting. The sway of the train, the feel of the steps underneath her feet. She remembers her boss, her coworkers, has names and traits to go with these faces.

Things grow more familiar, and she wonders if they were there before or if they've just been there since the accident. There's a man who seems to be everywhere, in the shadows, like a more sinister Kuroko (she remembers him, of course) when he was still invisible. There's something about his eyes that spooks and intrigues her, something about the way he holds a book in his hand (he's always got a book; maybe that's the thing that reminds her the most of Kuroko).

Maybe it's a sign—that she was assigned to him by fate, and that's why she sees him everywhere. He's at the café when she goes during her lunch break, and she finds the courage to buy him an iced tea and introduce herself. He offers her a thin smile, and he seems to be waiting on something, thinks that perhaps she'll say something—has she forgotten social cues, too?

He gives her his number and they arrange to meet again. She feels like there's something she's forgetting (well, obviously, she's forgotten many things, but this keeps bugging her, at the tip of her mind, so close to being remembered).

When he kisses her, it swirls together into a haze of foggy memories and long-forgotten butterfly kisses. He is the steel grey, the fingers, the silk tie, the everything. She pulls him close, trying to remember more—how much was there? Can she really be sure her mind isn't playing tricks on her?

"I'll wait as long as I need to," he says.

She cries, and he lets her mess up his shirt. How could she have forgotten something like this?

* * *

5. Basic Routine (Miyaji Kiyoshi/Hayama Kotarou) for anon

Hayama should really give him fair warning before he pulls this sort of shit (not like Miyaji is going to let him get away with it, anyway, but it won't be as startling and sudden when he fucking jumps on top of Miyaji) and of course his immediate reaction is to throw him the fuck off and get the fuck away. Hayama lands on the floor, right on his elbow, with a crash, and Miyaji crosses his arms.

"Listen, you little shit, how many times have I told you not to fucking do that? You can't just surprise me like that, okay? Don't touch me unless I say it's okay, which I. Have. Not. Yet."

Hayama blinks up at him, and then his gigantic eyes fill with tears. Miyaji rolls his eyes.

Hayama clumsily gets up from the floor and then almost falls back down again as he starts to sob.

Miyaji feels really awkward right now, torn between apologizing (even though he hasn't done anything—the damn brat is totally guilting him into this right now) and telling him to just shut the hell up.

"Hey, stop crying," he says.

Hayama looks up, eyes overflowing, and then sobs again. He looks and sounds like a bedraggled kitten left out in the rain.

His tears are dripping onto the floor now. Miyaji has a feeling he's going to regret this, but the sobs are grating and he doesn't want to have to hear them anymore, and Hayama's eyes are red and swelling even larger, so he grabs his arm and flops back onto the couch, pulling Hayama onto his lap.

Hayama sniffles, but his body stops shaking and he starts to breathe more evenly.

"Miyaji-san?"

"What?"

"Can I hold your hand?"

"Whatever."

Hayama clasps Miyaji's hand in his, and it's not as tight of a grip as usual. His nails aren't too sharp, either, and though his pulse is wild Miyaji guesses he can forgive that. For now.

* * *

6. Not Allowed to be Easy (Haizaki Shougo/Momoi Satsuki) for anon

There were many boys she could have loved; there were many boys she could have loved. It would have been easy, a happy cliché, for her to fall for Dai-chan, the purehearted boy next door who grew up to be hot and cynical. She could have fallen for Imayoshi, the mysterious evil genius captain, or Susa, the snarky but steady upperclassman. She could have fallen for Tetsu-kun, and she did a bit, but she only really fell for the illusions and misdirection he represented. She could have fallen for someone, anyone else, but she fell for Haizaki.

She was supposed to be the golden, untouchable princess, and he was supposed to be far below her, and if the world arranged itself the way Akashi wanted it to they never would have met. But they did meet, and feelings were irrevocably set in motion. She daydreams about his shaky laughter, back when his hair was wild and his smile was more obviously defensive than malicious. But this isn't about the boy he was, the boy he could have been (well, it is, a little, because without them she never would have thought about him in the first place) but it is about the boy he is, his savage strength, the bruises that appear on her forearm every time he clutches it and pulls her close to him, the ruthlessness in his eyes and how that has replaced mischievousness and hope.

Things are never allowed to just be easy; she's not sure what she even wants—she doesn't want him to be like this; she doesn't want him to change; she wants to be happy but she's not sure she can ever be with him (she's almost positive he can never be happy with her). All she knows is that she loves him, and in the movies that brings clarity and joy but her life is not a movie and they are not supposed to be; destiny is not on their side the way it's on some arbitrary heroine's side. (She doesn't need any help from fate, though; she'll do it on her own if she has to.) But her feelings make it harder for her to breathe when he holds her; they make it harder for her to clutch his hand, for her to sigh when he touches her in the right places. She's stuck in the middle of a dark swamp, and she can't find her way out. She can't even wade through alongside of him, because she has no idea where he stands.

But she can't give up on him even though she knows she should (even though she knows she should have a long time ago).

* * *

7. Collarbone (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo) for anon

He gets almost hasty when he's too close, when he spends too much time licking and biting her collarbone and he could probably just get off on that if he really wanted to—but he never does, always insisting on doing it the "right" way, which means actual sex—not that she's complaining.

It's not as if he doesn't give adequate attention to the things that turn her on as well; he makes sure to touch and kiss that one spot behind her left ear that makes her squeal every time (but not too often so it doesn't lose sensation) and he looks at her and she feels so hot she's going to turn to ashes and he makes absolutely sure she knows how much he loves her, how much he cherishes her, with his delicate touches everywhere on her skin, the butterfly kisses, his sweet words. But then he gets going on her collarbone, touching and licking and kissing and biting until he's already shaking and leaking and she has to help him put the condom on and it's bit of a mood-killer, honestly; he doesn't have it completely together and she's horny and annoyed but then he moves inside her and sucks her collarbone until it turns black and blue and sometimes she comes twice because his thrusts are so powerful and even and her collarbone has already become numb from the gnawing.

It takes a while for it to heal, and the bruise spreads like permanent ink and she can't hide it because even the best waterproof makeup doesn't stand a chance with the way she sweats in games. He apologizes, but he's not actually sorry; he's trying to placate her.

She gets that he wants the world to know they're together, but wouldn't it be easier to just hold hands or something? Of course, he can never take the easy way out; he challenges himself and then burns through the challenge like it's not even worth his time, sometimes. But even if she wasn't sure she was worth his time (which, mind you, she knows she absolutely is) he'd make sure she knew it.

Besides, it's nice when he kisses the tooth marks in the morning and traces his fingers over them at night before they go to sleep (she won't let him make fresh ones before the old ones fade) and nuzzles her neck when he's done. He's cute even when he's not, but she can't let it get on her nerves too much.

* * *

8. After a Long Day (Takao Kazunari/Mayuzumi Chihiro/Kuroko Tetsuya) for anon

Chihiro is exhausted. Work was hell, today; he barely had time to eat lunch and he forgot his new novel at home so there's nothing to read on the train ride back. He's too paranoid about missing his stop to sleep on the train, so he stares into space and thinks about how shitty his coworkers are and how demanding his boss is and how he'd really like to be reading, damn it. Books take his mind off the tediousness of real life. He's also kind of horny, and perhaps that's what's actually preventing him from falling asleep.

At least he has his keys; he lets himself in and almost collapses in the foyer.

"Chii-chan!" Kazunari runs up to him and hugs him and Chihiro sinks into his arms and gropes his ass.

"Frisky today?" Kazunari says, kissing his cheek. "Tecchan is, too, but I told him we'd wait for you."

"What about you?" Chihiro asks as Kazunari helps with his coat.

Kazunari shrugs and grins. "You know I'm always up for anything. But how was your day?"

"Shitty," says Chihiro frankly.

Kazunari hugs him again. "Well, you're in the right place. Tecchan's drawing up a bath for all of us."

The large bathtub is perhaps the best investment they'd made in the renovations they'd had done to their apartment. All three of them fit inside comfortably and with plenty of room to move around. When they reach the bathroom, Tetsuya is already inside.

"Chii-chan had a bad day," Kazunari says.

Tetsuya nods. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Kazunari and Chihiro disrobe and step in, and it's bliss to Chihiro's aching limbs. He leans back and Tetsuya and Kazunari are immediately tending to him, pressing washcloths to his arms and kisses to his neck.

Well, there's still time for this day to turn around.

* * *

9. Not Giving Up (Imayoshi Shouichi/Hara Kazuya) for anon

"I'll wait," says Imayoshi. He picks up his book and starts to flip through it; Hara can't tell if he's really reading (not that he's paying too much attention, anyway).

Hara crosses his arms and snaps his gum a few times, sharp inhalations resulting in very loud cracks. Imayoshi's reaction is a non-reaction; he keeps looking at the pages in front of him.

Hara has absolutely no romantic feelings for this guy. Or at least, he's not supposed to and he's not about to admit he does (that is, if he does, which he's only half figured out). Imayoshi's good in bed and a witty conversationalist, but this isn't love. So Imayoshi can wait all he wants but Hara won't budge. Whatever the feeling-things are that are currently bouncing around in his body and mind, he's not going to waste time analyzing them and assigning a name. Imayoshi should just stop teasing him (but Imayoshi will never stop teasing him or anyone else) and drop the issue, but he can be irritatingly stubborn at times, and it looks like this is one of those times. But Hara will wait for Imayoshi to finish his book; he will wait for Imayoshi to let it rest again and start another conversation. He'll win this time for sure.

* * *

10. Without Permission (Imayoshi Shouichi/Sakurai Ryou/Hanamiya Makoto) for anon

Hanamiya flips through the book, lip curling in disgust. "Well, well, it seems you were right, Imayoshi. These protagonists look awfully familiar."

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Sakurai cries.

"I reckon it's a little bit too late for that," says Imayoshi. "But what are we going to do about this?"

Hanamiya shrugs. "Well, he clearly needs to be taught a lesson in asking."

Sakurai strains against the bonds keeping him in place. He really wants to cover himself in shame because their words are really turning him on and it's quite visible.

"Hmm," says Imayoshi. "Maybe we should spank him?"

"That's boring," says Hanamiya. "Leave him tied up for a day."

"No, Hana-chan, that's boring."

Sakurai keeps getting more and more aroused.

"Listen," says Imayoshi, turning toward Sakurai. "You can't come unless you ask first, okay?"

Sakurai nods.

"So," says Imayoshi. "I've decided."

"Hey!" says Hanamiya.

"Hana-chan and I are going to come on you."

Hanamiya crosses his arms. "That was my idea."

Imayoshi grins. "I'm not psychic, but I'm absolutely thrilled that you're up for it."

They climb up onto the bed and start stroking themselves. Sakurai strains against the bonds again and again, trying to touch himself and feeling like his entire body is on fire even though he can't.

"Ah! I-Imayoshi-san, can I come?"

Imayoshi pauses. "No, you most certainly cannot."

"We're not done yet," says Hanamiya.

"But…"

"But what? We've already established that you don't know how to listen," says Imayoshi.

Sakurai continues to strain and a few seconds later, Imayoshi and Hanamiya resume their stroking. Sakurai tries to tell his body to calm down but it just won't. He's so close, but he squeezes his eyes shut to block out the view, imagines non-sexual things in his head like deodorant and hats and soap.

He feels a sticky liquid hit his chest and blinks; both Hanamiya and Imayoshi are coming onto him as promised. Sakurai exhales.

"Remember to ask," says Imayoshi.

"Can I come?" asks Sakurai.

"No," says Imayoshi.

"Yes," he says a few seconds later, and Sakurai begins wiggling his body in earnest. Both Imayoshi and Hanamiya give him a few strokes and that just about does it.

"See how well you're rewarded when you ask?" Imayoshi says.

Sakurai nods. "I'm really, really sorry."

"Well, prove you are by not doing it again, then."

* * *

11. Rainbows and Halloween in December (Kise Ryouta/Kuroko Tetsuya) for anon

Kuroko answers the door in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Oh, I thought it was you, Kise-kun."

He looks so adorable that Kise immediately throws his arms around him. This time, he doesn't duck but (limply) accepts the hug.

"I'm so happy you're so affectionate this morning," Kise whispers into the top of Kuroko's head.

"My reflexes are not working yet," Kuroko replies.

Since Kuroko's not going to make him food, Kise decides to fix himself a bowl of cereal. Kuroko doesn't object, but he sits on the couch and dozes off again. He's adorable when he sleeps, but Kise shakes him awake anyway.

"So did you get my e-mail last night?" Kise asks.

"I was not aware that it needed an immediate reply."

"But Kurokocchi! We have to start planning costumes immediately!"

Kuroko blinks. "It's a costume party?"

"Of course it is!"

"Kise-kun, it's Christmas, not Halloween."

Kise pouts. "You're no fun, Kurokocchi."

"I didn't even say I was going," says Kuroko.

Kise puts down his half-finished bowl of cereal and clasps his hands. "Oh, please, Kurokocchi? It'll be tons of fun!"

"I don't like parties; you know that," says Kuroko.

"But…but…I'll be there…and there's an open bar…"

"I'm not big on alcohol, either."

Kise crosses his arms. It's useless. Kuroko's too stubborn, and even Kise's biggest puppy eyes have never worked on him.

Kuroko reaches out to run his hand through Kise's hair. "I'd rather stay in and watch a holiday movie with you instead."

Kise nearly bursts into tears. The soft smile that Kuroko's giving him right now is a rarer sight than a rainbow, and unquantifiably more beautiful.

* * *

12. Competitive (Sakurai Ryou/Takao Kazunari) for anon

He adjusts his hair in the mirror; the temporary extensions are kind of a drag and he's always afraid they'll fall out (although they sure as hell beat a wig in terms of comfort). Still, he looks very pretty today, impossible to distinguish from the actual women here. There's no prize for the mall beauty contest except the glory of winning, which he very much intends to win fair and square. He hikes up his skirt just a little bit more before taking his place in line among the others.

They move at a brisk pace, and soon it's his turn to walk across the stage. He winks and giggles, blowing theatrical kisses to the crowd amid a chorus of whistles, applause, and catcalls. He makes sure to smile at all of the judges. He's very confident he aced it, especially when the groans and the hawk's eye tell him the contestant behind him has fallen and twisted her ankle.

The judges confer for a few minutes and then finally announce the semifinalists.

"Please return to the stage, Takao-chan, Sakurai-chan, and Hanazawa-chan!"

Takao steps back on stage, giggling and waving again. He turns toward the other contestants. Hanazawa is petite and cute, with long, curly blonde hair and the longest, thickest false eyelashes he has ever seen. She's going for some sort of Lolita hybrid look, and she rocks it. Sakurai is…Sakurai Ryou.

"Oh, Sakurai-chan! Hi!" says Takao. (Friendliness always gets brownie points.)

Sakurai blinks. "Takao-chan, um, how nice to see you."

He manages a scared half-smile.

"Hey!" shouts a guy in the audience. "Those hot girls should kiss!"

"Yeah!" shouts another one.

The judges ignore them.

"Kiss, kiss, kiss!" the audience starts chanting.

"Well," says Takao. "What do you say?"

Sakurai presses his lips against Takao's tentatively. Takao fervently hopes Sakurai doesn't bring up his hand and touch the extensions, and as a precaution he intertwines their hands.

"You are disqualified!" shouts one of the judges.

Sakurai pulls Takao closer. "Let's get out of here," he whispers.

"Good idea," says Takao.

* * *

13. Lockup (Susa Yoshinori/Imayoshi Shouichi) for anon

The dorms are technically open for winter break, but no one ever stays in them. No one, except apparently Susa and Imayoshi this year. Imayoshi wants to use the opportunity to explore the places on campus he hasn't been; Susa doubts the existence of such places but decides that he might as well tag along, mostly to keep Imayoshi out of too much trouble (he'll get both of them in some sort of trouble for sure, but when left to his own devices there's no one to check his crazier plans and Susa doesn't want a missing, injured, or expelled boyfriend, thank you very much.

Besides, they can hold hands when no one else is here. The cleaning staff is gone by noon and they walk around the empty school buildings. Susa finds it more than a little creepy, but then again it's perfectly suited to Imayoshi if it's like this, isn't it? Their breath freezes in the air and Imayoshi snuggles closer than is strictly necessary for warmth, but Susa's fine with it.

"How about the storage locker? I always wondered what was in there." Imayoshi edges toward the door.

"School supplies," says Susa. "I'm hungry; can we get lunch?"

Imayoshi ignores him and opens the latch. "Or maybe a hidden stash of money?"

Susa snorts. "Of course. That's exactly where they'd put it, where the janitor goes in every day."

"Yes!" says Imayoshi and he shoves Susa in and follows. The door slams shut behind them.

"Isn't it self-locking?" says Susa.

Imayoshi shrugs. "We've got light in here, and plenty of space to do whatever we'd like."

Plenty of space is a bit of an exaggeration.

"You know, if you wanted to have sex that badly, the bed is much more comfortable," says Susa.

"I'm shocked at your boldness, Yoshinori," says Imayoshi.

"How are we going to explain this to the janitor when he opens the closet?" says Susa.

"We'll think of something," says Imayoshi.

Susa crosses his arms.

"Isn't it romantic?" says Imayoshi.

"Not at all," says Susa, but he kisses Imayoshi anyway. (It's not like there's anything else to do.)

* * *

14. Beautiful Pain (Tsugawa Tomoki/Sakurai Ryou) for anon

Tsugawa's grin always makes Sakurai a little more nervous than he already is, a little more on guard. But somehow, Tsugawa finds new ways to get under his skin, new insecurities to pick on, new things to pressure him into, and he feels powerless. Sometimes the powerlessness is thrilling; it's exciting to be at Tsugawa's mercy and have no say and Tsugawa thrives on the power. The cycle feeds itself, and the sex is better every time, more painful and drawn out and Sakurai whimpers and cries more, but he comes harder and feels more satisfied. Besides, Tsugawa's okay with cuddling afterwards and actually acting kind of sweet (and he's always appreciative of the breakfast Sakurai makes him the next day) so it balances out and makes him eager for their next session of pain and discomfort.

* * *

15. Beautiful Pain (Tsugawa Tomoki/Takao Kazunari) for anon

He was supposed to win this, was supposed to be able to throw off the pressure defense and pass around Tsugawa. It wasn't supposed to be easy, but it was supposed to be doable. He wonders idly if the sophomore who was supposed to be the starting point guard this year will start the next game, will make those perfect passes and get around the defense. But it doesn't matter; he'll never get this one back.

Even though he put what seemed like half a container of sugar in his coffee, it still tastes bitter and bleak. Shin-chan trusted him, gave him that look, his faith—and Takao betrayed it. He couldn't get past Tsugawa, had probably fifteen turnovers (maybe more)—he couldn't take it. What kind of point guard is he? He sighs. He knows that it could be bad luck or a bad game, but even on his worst days he should still stay ahead of the competition. That's why he stays after practice, right?

"Hey! Fancy seeing you here."

"Speak of the devil," Takao mutters.

"What?" Tsugawa blinks at him.

Takao shakes his head.

Tsugawa shrugs and calls over the waiter. "Can I get an orange juice?"

This late in the afternoon? Well, whatever. Takao's not going to comment on it; the less they talk the better as far as he's concerned.

Of course, Tsugawa thinks very differently. He talks Takao's ear off about school, other basketball players, and shit that Takao honestly doesn't care about right now. He tries to block out that bald guy's damn annoying voice, but nothing works.

"Look," Takao says after finally draining the last of his coffee. "I get it. You beat me; you're better. Now go away and stop rubbing it in my face."

"What?" says Tsugawa. "Still hung up on that? Man, life's too short. I mean, you're kind of cute and I thought you might like to play."

Is he fucking serious? Who talks that way? Takao sighs. "I'm…flattered, but no."

"Aw, come on." Tsugawa bats his eyes and for a moment Takao thinks that he actually does look okay, and yeah, he had some decent-sized muscles that Takao was clearly watching during the game and no, no, no. This is not happening.

Tsugawa takes the non-answer as an affirmation and grabs Takao by the hand. "My house is close by, and my parents aren't home!"

Takao thinks about running away, but somehow his feet carry him through the streets, through the door, up the stairs, and into Tsugawa's apartment. Tsugawa doesn't waste time with niceties, something Takao actually kind of appreciates. His hands are rough on Takao's arms and as nimble as his fingers are with a basketball, they're even better at removing clothes. Takao barely has time to notice how well-hung Tsugawa is before Tsugawa shoves Takao's mouth against his cock. Takao would protest, but Tsugawa has no hair for him to grab onto so it's not like Tsugawa could really suck him off. Still, it's weird to have a dick so far down his throat. Tsugawa's hands in his hair actually feel quite nice, though, and before he really notices Tsugawa comes in his mouth and he reflexively swallows.

He's not done, so Tsugawa jerks him off and kisses him on the forehead when he's done.

"You did good," Tsugawa says, stroking Takao's hair.

Takao realizes that he's been had once again—and that he actually doesn't care too much. It's nice to fall asleep in Tsugawa's arms.

* * *

16. Decisions (Kiyoshi Teppei/Takao Kazunari/Hyuuga Junpei) for anon

"You're really a pain in the ass, you know?" Hyuuga says.

Takao squirms in Kiyoshi's lap and Kiyoshi hugs him closer. It's not too bad yet.

"So, Kiyoshi, what should we do?"

"I don't know," says Kiyoshi. "You've been a challenging opponent, kid."

"Don't praise him!" Hyuuga shouts. "You're almost as bad, idiot."

Hyuuga frowns and scratches his chin. Takao glares at him.

"Bend him over your knee, Kiyoshi," says Hyuuga. "Let me spank him."

Kiyoshi does as he's told. Hyuuga roughly yanks down Takao's shorts and smacks his ass. It's not all that hard; Takao's pretty sure Hyuuga doesn't have much experience. The second one stings a little more, and the third one a bit more. The sixth one really hurts and he bites back a yelp; Hyuuga's really getting the hang of things. The tenth stirs something inside of him, and he starts getting uncomfortably turned on after at least the sixteenth.

"Um, Hyuuga?" says Kiyoshi.

"What?" says Hyuuga.

"He's hard."

Takao blushes. Why did he have to say that so bluntly?

"Turn him over," says Hyuuga.

Kiyoshi complies. Hyuuga grins and crosses his arms.

"Well, well, well."

* * *

17. Punny and Perfect (Izuki Shun/Hyuuga Junpei) for anon

"I'm topping, and that's final," says Hyuuga. "Maybe I am gay, but I'm not going to be the woman in the relationship."

Izuki rolls his eyes. "I'm not the one making a Hyuuge deal about this."

"Shut up," says Hyuuga.

"Besides," says Izuki, "You'll have the gay-test time bottoming me."

"Oh, my god," says Hyuuga. "I won't let you bottom me if you keep making sex puns. Those aren't turn-ons at all."

"Really? Because I couldn't help but notice that nice ass-ist of yours last game. And since you're the shooter, you should let me have that…ass-ist."

Hyuuga's still trying to figure out what the fuck Izuki is talking about when he realizes that he's half-naked and Izuki's stretching him out. Ah, well, he might as well go full-out gay. A captain shouldn't do anything half-assed.

So to speak.

* * *

18. Step Up (Mibuchi Reo/Sakurai Ryou) for anon

"I'm sorry!" Sakurai mumbles, bowing frantically.

Mibuchi rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Just get on with it and shoot. It's not like you're going to win, anyway."

"Oh, yeah?" says Sakurai.

Then, he bows and apologizes again. But he shoots the ball in a perfect arc; it nearly misses but circles around the hoop and finally falls through the net. He tosses the ball to Mibuchi, and he takes a clean fadeaway that gets nothing but net.

Before he can pick up the ball, Sakurai's gotten to it. He takes an off-balance shot, but it's deadly accurate and Mibuchi might even say that it swishes straight through the hoop with malice, but that's silly. Basketballs don't have emotions, even if the person who's throwing them does.

"Your move," says Sakurai.

That dangerous look in his eyes is hot, intoxicating almost. Mibuchi cubs Sakurai's chin in his hand and kisses him softly.

After a few seconds, Sakurai shoves him away. "That's cheating; that's _not_what I meant."

The madder he gets, the more attractive he looks and the better he is at basketball, so Mibuchi has absolutely no problem with this.

* * *

19. Annoyances (Imayoshi Shouichi/Izuki Shun/Takao Kazunari) for anon

"Imayoshi is so int-Ima-dating!" Izuki declares.

Takao groans and slaps his face. "You can't say it like that, especially when he's right in front of you."

Imayoshi cocks an eyebrow. "Do tell me how I am intimidating."

"Well you always put people off-guard…"

"Stop it," says Takao. "Sometimes your puns are funny, Shun-chan, but…"

"Oh, you want one?" says Izuki.

Takao rolls his eyes. He has no idea if Izuki is playing dumb or trolling or what he's really doing but it's not funny.

"You're unusually impatient, today, Takao," says Izuki. "Something…ruffle your feathers this morning?"

Well, as a matter of fact, his sister had woken him up at 4 AM because of a nightmare and he couldn't fall asleep afterward so, yes.

Imayoshi looks at Takao. "Well, Takao-kun, I reckon there are a lot of ways we could keep his mouth shut."

Oh. Even when he's tired and grumpy, _that_ is a nice possibility.

"What?" says Izuki. "Just because my jokes were on point—"

Imayoshi shoves his hand in Izuki's mouth and unzips his fly. He glances at Takao, and Takao follows suit. Neither of them is hard yet, but that will be taken care of soon. Simultaneously, they shove their dicks into Izuki's mouth.

The warm wetness sharpens Takao's focus and makes him gasp. Izuki gags and sucks, lips stretching from the way Takao's and Imayoshi's cocks are swelling. As he continues to suck and Takao grows more aroused with the way Imyoshi's cock twitches against his and Izuki's tongue swirls around his shaft, Imayoshi kisses him softly.

"Suck harder," Imayoshi commands.

Izuki's eyes are tearing up as he vigorously licks and sucks, trying to take both of them in farther even though his mouth is already filled. He mumbles something incoherent, not that Takao would be able to understand it because the friction between his cock and Imayoshi's and the slickness and hotness of Izuki's mouth are driving him wild.

* * *

20. Cleanup (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Mibuchi Reo) for anon

Akashi excused himself early; Hayama escaped somehow; Nebuya got hungry and wandered off. Mibuchi can't be sure of Mayuzumi's whereabouts, so it's probably safe to assume that he's been left alone with the rest of the decorations. There aren't that many left, but it's still kind of a drag. There are a couple of sprigs of mistletoe, some strips of crepe paper, and the tablecloths, all of which can be thrown out, left. Still, it's kind of lonely without any company. He crosses the room over to the tables, but almost trips over Mayuzumi in the middle of the room.

"Oh, so you were here," says Mibuchi. "So you're going to take the—"

Mayuzumi cuts him off with a lingering kiss; he tastes like mint chip ice cream and something bitter and why is Mibuchi noticing this right now? Mayuzumi backs away, smiling that damn evil grin of his, and Mibuchi can only gape. Mayuzumi points upward.

Oh. That goddamn mistletoe.

"You should be careful where you're walking," says Mayuzumi. (Has his voice always been this deep?) "You might just happen to bump into someone in the wrong spot. Just think if it was the captain, hmm?"

Mibuchi takes a deep breath. He doesn't even want to think about that. "But you didn't have to, Chii-chan. No one's here."

"I'm here," says Mayuzumi. "And I'm a man of my honor; aren't you?"

* * *

21. Flowers and Beauty (Mibuchi Reo/Hanamiya Makoto) for anon

Reo always slips the collar on without complaint, even pausing several times to look in the mirror and adjusting it. Makoto would like to say that Reo enjoys being his—and he does, in a way, always way too overeager to hold hands in public. But sometimes he tries to take the lead, and that's no good. Makoto is the leader in this relationship, and he makes sure Reo knows that, makes sure to leave enough marks on his neck and the insides of his wrist so that he'll never have enough time to cover it up with all of his makeup, and puts the collar on him, and tells him every day.

And he doesn't ever let Reo actually get away with any of this, okay? When they do something that Reo suggests or wants, Makoto actually wanted to do it all along. Of course he did; only a fool would suggest otherwise. Besides, when it's something Reo wants, too, Reo is extra-affectionate, acts more docile.

"You're being a good boy, today, Reo," Makoto whispers.

And Reo smiles at him and moves closer—and Makoto is beginning to regret praising him, because this is too much and Reo has no shame or sense of decency whatsoever. Give him a millimeter and he takes continents' worth of distance, and his butterfly kisses on Makoto's neck are definitely not nice at all. It's not like they fill a space or take away any sort of ache—that would be silly.

* * *

22. Killer Eyes (Imayoshi Shouichi/Mibuchi Reo) for anon

"You're not my type," says Mibuchi.

"Well, what a coincidence," says Imayoshi. "You're not mine, either."

Imayoshi tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear and leans forward, exposing his rather impressive shoulder muscles. The smile certainly doesn't hurt—emo guys frown and angst a lot, and Imayoshi seems relatively angst-free. Still, though, that doesn't automatically make him Mibuchi's type. For instance, his style sense is sorely lacking. Old t-shirts and khakis aren't exactly in right now, but somehow he pulls it off. Mibuchi has no idea what Imayoshi's type is—and he totally doesn't want to know. And if he did, there'd be no real reason, just idle curiosity. That would be all, really.

"Although you certainly are beautiful," says Imayoshi.

He leans farther forward across the table and opens his eyes a fraction. They're captivating; Mibuchi doesn't have a name for their color other than gorgeous, and he instinctively leans forward as well. Their lips meet, and Imyoshi chomps down hard on Mibuchi's lower lip. Mibuchi grins into the kiss. This sadistic side might prove to be very interesting, and it may be a challenge but he's sure he can match it. If he doesn't, he'll enjoy trying.

* * *

23. Just Because (Mibuchi Reo/Takao Kazunari) for anon

The disappointment in their eyes is delicious, the utter blankness and self-loathing—it's obvious on all of their faces except that one adorable little point guard's. His eyes are still burning brightly. He's proved his worth, even if the rest of them are mostly forgettable, and Reo can't wait.

He puts on extra cologne, ignoring Eikichi's and Chihiro's stupid snide remarks about the smell (Eikichi should be one to talk, really) and makes sure his hair looks perfect. He whistles as he exits the locker room. This is going to be good.

He manages to catch Takao looking at the scoreboards, oddly enough. He doesn't look too happy to see Reo.

"Hey, sweetheart," Reo says.

Takao blanches. "What the fuck? You beat me and now you're calling me sweetheart?"

"Of course," Reo says, patting his arm. "Your courage was quite admirable and I must say your skills as a point guard are second only to Sei-chan's."

"Well, that's still second," says Takao, but he doesn't pull away from Reo's arm.

"Let me make it up to you," says Reo. "I'll take you to dinner."

Takao blinks up at him. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I think you're cute," says Reo.

Takao sighs. Even he seems a little defeated; it was less apparent when he was among his utterly destroyed teammates but it can't be denied here. Reo puts his arm around Takao, and Takao accepts.

"You're paying?"

"Darling, that's what taking you to dinner means."

(-)

He proves to be an excellent conversationalist once he opens up, which is very easy at an expensive steakhouse (no need to tell him that it's on the school's tab—and at any rate this dinner for two won't be anywhere near the cost of one of Eikichi's "snacks"). He's very into gymnastics and cartoons, and the look on his face when he's explaining a concept is too adorable for words. He readily accepts Reo's attention to go back to the hotel afterwards for more time together, although he doesn't reach for Reo's hand on the way there. Reo decides to back off for the moment.

He draws Takao a bath and Takao doesn't balk at the idea completely. Reo's feeling a little sore, and he's in peak condition and didn't work nearly as hard as Takao did during the game. Takao sinks back and lets Reo pull him into his arms. He closes his eyes and smiles, and Reo kisses him on the forehead.

"Wait," mumbles Takao. "We can do it in a few minutes, but I'm a little stiff right now."

Reo screams internally. Sex was definitely the end goal, but he was prepared to go without, due to Takao's frustration and tiredness, but it looks as if these two factors will be working in his favor tonight. And he never expected Takao to be the one to expect it. He still doesn't believe it until Takao rolls over in the water and kisses him full-on.

(-)

He carries Takao to bed and lends him some spare pajamas. Takao smiles at him the whole time, following Reo with his eyes, not even using hawk eyes. Reo crawls in beside him and pulls Takao into his arms. Takao snuggles into his chest.

"Hey, Reo-chan?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's do this again?"

He is just way too damn cute. It shouldn't be legal.

* * *

24. Steadying Each Other (Kasamatsu Yukio/Takao Kazunari) for anon

Of course, in the end, he's just a servant, not really a partner or an equal, at least in that sort of sense. He'd slunk off with the first guy he'd seen, a guy who wasn't at all like Takao, and if he wanted Takao's honest opinion (not like he even looked back for a second) the guy was kind of sleazy.

"Well, he shouldn't blame me if he ends up with herpes," Takao mumbles. He's just tipsy enough to think that's funny and he giggles, falling backward and onto some other guy leaning on the bar.

"Oi, watch it," says the other guy.

Takao blinks. "Kasamatsu-san?"

"Oh, it's Takao," says Kasamatsu.

He casts his eyes downward; Takao wonders if he's wondering the one game they'd played against each other, Kasamatsu's last—no, it's better not to think about it, better not to think about a certain tall green-haired shooting guard and his double-double that night.

They settle into a silence, sipping their drinks.

"I'll buy," says Takao.

He might as well make some other miserable man a little bit happier even if he's doomed to slink home alone tonight and dream of bandaged hands.

Kasamatsu flushes. "I…okay."

And then he kisses Takao. It's unexpected, but not terrible. Kasamatsu doesn't seem all that experienced, but he's forceful and intuitive. He tastes like gin, not Takao's favorite flavor but better when it's on someone else's lips. So maybe he'll have company tonight. He hums into the kiss and Kasamatsu just pushes back harder.

(-)

They make it to Takao's apartment fairly quickly and make it to the bed almost as soon as they're inside. Their hands are slipping against each other and they're both horny and agitated and rougher than is strictly necessary. Kasamatsu's a forceful top and Takao enjoys bottoming him; it's…good. Kasamatsu may be inexperienced, but he knows the ins and outs of his own body and they're similar enough so that what works on him works on Takao. He winds his hands through Takao's hands as he moves in and out, sending pleasure up and down Takao's torso. He comes first but keeps moving, considerate of Takao's needs, too, and after he comes Takao kisses Kasamatsu appreciatively.

Kasamatsu sits up and starts to get dressed, but Takao pulls him back down.

"Please don't go."

"But…I…" Kasamatsu stutters.

"I want to do this again." Takao knows he's not being totally clear about what he wants, and it's the sleepiness and satiation talking instead of his actual feelings.

Kasamatsu pauses.

"I think I like you," says Takao. "So please, stay at least for now?"

Kasamatsu sighs and mutters something under his breath that Takao can't make out. Takao spoons him and it's only a matter of seconds before he's asleep, face pressed against the back of Kasamatsu's neck.

* * *

25. Meow (Hayama Kotarou/Mibuchi Reo/Takao Kazunari) for anon

Reo never expected both of them to be able to hold him down. Kotarou weighs all of, like, two kilograms, and Kazunari's so tiny and wiry. They're like two cats, claws out and fangs bared, staring down at a little bird they'll share (Reo likes to think of himself as a very beautiful bird, thank you very much).

Kotarou licks his lips and then starts kissing up and down Reo's neck. It's kind of arousing, yeah, and kind of cute at the same times. Then Kazunari joins him and they both start biting and sucking at once. Reo wants to squirm; it's uncomfortable, all of this sensation—but he stops himself. He doesn't want them to stop; he doesn't want to hurt them with a badly-placed knee or elbow.

They move down his body, to his torso, unbuttoning his shirt methodically and kissing each part as it's revealed, sucking on his nipples together (here he bucks up his knees and then spreads his legs despite his mind telling him not to) and then flicking as they keep moving downward. They tug at the top of his jeans, and Reo whines. He reaches out his hands, now free from pressure, and tries to palm both of them at once but they move out of the way and smirk. Reo frowns.

They move back and Reo succeeds; they both mewl in harmony like cats in heat.

They pull out Reo's cock and fist it both at once, and move their hands at an agonizingly slow pace. Reo rolls his hips and moves his entire body at once and they still don't increase the pace much. He groans in frustration; their grins widen. It's horribly unfair; it's like torture. They're terrible, teasing him like this, holding the power together, squeezing their hands like this, reacting to every move and noise he makes with little giggles. It feels like forever before they're moving fast enough for him to get close, and then he stays there for another eternity while they drag it out and he finally comes.

They clean him off while he falls asleep, too exhausted to help them (besides, they should do it; it's their fault he's so tired). He stays half-awake long enough to feel both of them rest their heads on his chest and curling up in the crook of his shoulders.

* * *

26. Special Kind of Hell (Imayoshi Shouichi/Kasamatsu Yukio) for anon

Imayoshi's hand traces over Kasamatsu's abs and Kasamatsu flinches, biting back a moan. Imayoshi's terrible grin widens. His mouth ghosts over Kasamatsu's neck, coming close to touching, breath tickling but he does not laugh. He does not make a sound.

"Aw, Yuki-chan, you're no fun," Imayoshi croons.

"Fuck off," says Kasamatsu.

Imayoshi takes off his glasses and moves in closer, pressing their noses together. Kasamatsu shudders. His mind is screaming for his body to push away Imayoshi, but he can't, won't, somehow, and his hands end up cupping Imayoshi's ass. Imayoshi hums.

"I reckon we should kiss right now."

And Kasamatsu tilts his head forward, meeting his lips against dry and sour ones. Tonight is going to be a special kind of hell, isn't it?

* * *

27. Mimicry (Kise Ryouta/Hanamiya Makoto/Takao Kazunari) for anon

Makoto doesn't know if he should be annoyed or impressed that he can't tell whose tongue is licking his chest with the blindfold on, or whose hands are pinching at his thighs (they have different-sized fingers, but he still can't tell; the way they touch and imitate each other is perfect—but it's not, because if it were perfect it wouldn't be so frustrating because he's a genius, damn it; he shouldn't be fooled by two idiot cockteases like this, so he's settling on annoyed with a side of angry).

He reaches out and scratches at skin, hoping for a yelp to betray the voices, but they are both silent but for the synchronized breathing and panting and his own sighs, ripped without consent from his throat. Damn these two; damn them both. It feels so good, but his mind is shutting off the pleasure and he won't be truly sated until he figures out which one is which.

* * *

28. New Year (Susa Yoshinori/Imayoshi Shouichi) for anon

"You're no fun, Yoshinori," says Shouichi.

"Whatever," says Yoshinori. "I'm tired. I'm not going to stay up for fireworks."

"We can sleep in tomorrow," says Shouichi.

"We can do that even if we go to sleep right now. And you don't even have to sleep right now. You can stay up for the fireworks."

"Then it wouldn't be romantic."

Yoshinori sighs. "You're not going to quit bugging me about this?"

"Bug you? Me? Why, Yoshinori, I would never."

"Sure," says Yoshinori.

"Is that sarcasm in your voice? I'm wounded!"

Yoshinori snorts. "They always said you were one of the smart ones."

He doesn't make a move to get up, and Shouichi smiles wider and moves closer. Somehow, he knew he'd get his way.

* * *

29. Vision (Iwamura Tsutomu/Kasuga Ryuuhei) for anon

"So this is it, huh?" says Kasuga. He claps Iwamura on the shoulder, but seems unable to remove his hand.

Iwamura nods. "Yeah." His voice cracks.

Kasuga hugs him, presses his face deep into Iwamura's chest and tries desperately to blink back these damn stupid unshed tears. It's just basketball; it's just basketball. He repeats the phrase over and over again in his head like a mantra but it doesn't help. Iwamura squeezes him tightly, presses kisses to the top of his head, and then he feels Iwamura's tears falling on top of him and can no longer stop his own eyes from leaking.

They don't let go of each other until they've both stopped crying, preferring to keep the illusion of dignity and letting the other feel but not see—because the sight would destroy them both completely.

* * *

30. Pep Talk (Aomine Daiki/Sakurai Ryou) for anon

Sakurai's lip quivers and he crumples off the paper. He tosses it across the room into the wastebasket, a perfect shot, but he looks angry.

"What is it this time?" Aomine says.

"I can't draw a bulldozer!" Sakurai shouts, slamming his fists on the bed. "I'm a terrible artist; I'm horrible. I'm never going to make it. I'm sorry for wasting your time with making you critique my art when it's never going to end up anywhere and I'm never going to be anything—"

Aomine covers Sakurai's mouth with his hand.

"Shut up, Ryou. You aren't worthless."

He takes his hand away after a few seconds.

"Now listen up. When you talk shit about yourself it's annoying as hell, especially because it's not true. I don't know shit about art but your stuff looks good, like, really good. Like, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between you and a professional mangaka. And I don't know, maybe some super critic could, but most people are more like me and don't care too much about that stuff. And you're this good when you're seventeen, and you're only going to get better."

Sakurai blinks. "I…I'm so sorry for saying things that aren't true and for annoying you and, and…"

"Don't apologize so much, either; that's really fucking annoying."

Sakurai gulps and nods.

Shit. He doesn't look any happier. Aomine pats him on the head, and Sakurai gives him a nervous smile-like expression. Well, that's still not good enough. Without warning, he reaches up Sakurai's shirt and starts tickling. Sakurai's mouth twitches and he starts to giggle. It devolves into full-blown laughter after a few more seconds and Aomine adds his other hand, pouncing on top of Sakurai. That smile is exactly what he likes to see.

* * *

31. Don't You Get It (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo) for mjssvanny

She sat up and prepared to leave, as she did every morning after she spent the night at his place, the walk of shame in yesterday's uniform to the school gates, paranoia of people looking at her and knowing—she was ready to face it, ready to put on her sweater and buy breakfast on the way out. As always, he reached out his arm, and she turned to face him, to kiss him goodbye on the cheek.

This time, he sat up. She froze.

"Don't you get it yet?" He looked a little undone with his hair messy like that and his shirt buttoned wrong.

"Get what?" she half-whispered.

"I want you to stay," he said, pulling her close to him.

She blinked.

"Please, Reo," he murmured into her hair. "Stay. Walk to school with me."

"Why?" she asked.

"Don't you get it yet?" he repeated. "I love you."

* * *

32. Tissues (Takao Kazunari/Momoi Satsuki) for anon

She's somewhere in her third box of tissues when he sits beside her, gently draping his arm around her slim shoulders. She slides into his grip and he pulls her closer. She sobs into his jacket and he lets her; it's less wasteful this way and his shoulder is far more sturdy than her trembling hand.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.

She shakes her head against his jacket and sobs again, reaching her arms around his torso and squeezing. Her grip is strong, stronger than usual (and she's no weakling). He sighs; he hates seeing her like this. It's not often she's this shaken up; usually she projects happiness on top of her worries or doesn't let it get to her too much, but sometimes even she can't take it, and in these times he needs to be there for her. And he will be, for however long it takes for her tears to dry and for the sobs to become sniffles and then breaths, and for the swelling in her eyes to disappear, and beyond, to listen, to support. And he knows she'd do the same for him.

* * *

33. Mess (Nakamura Shinya/Hayakawa Mitsuhiro)

Hayakawa's never going to stop trying to talk with his mouth full, waving his arms and jabbing his utensils everywhere (why anyone has ever let him near a knife Nakamura will never know). He's almost completely unintelligible, words muffled and lisped and way too fast and Nakamura always has to ask him to slow down just a little bit and he's always a bit afraid Hayakawa will be mad (somehow he never is; he's really too good-natured to actually exist).

He's a messy eater, too, and always ends up with something stuck to the corner of his mouth or his nose (somehow) or his cheek. It's so utterly Hayakawa and so cute that Nakamura can't resist wiping it off for him with a napkin or sometimes with his thumb. Hayakawa always stops talking to try and see where Nakamura's hand is on his face and ends up grabbing his hand and kissing it when he's done. Nakamura averts his eyes, but then Hayakawa grabs Nakamura's tie and leans in until their foreheads touch.

(That's about as much as either of them can handle right now.)

* * *

34. Ocean (Imayoshi Shouichi/Aomine Daiki)

They set out on the water before dawn, silent but for the boat sounds (Aomine likes to imagine they're a shark in the water, preying on unsuspecting fish, but they're really more like a whale, slow-moving and with no real direction other than "away from land"). By the time the sun is clear of the horizon, they've set the traps and Aomine is dozing in the sun, waves and the smell of salt lulling him to sleep.

Imayoshi drops a live fish on his head some time around noon. Aomine yelps and starts flopping around because he's just had a face full of fins and he was having a lovely dream about a busty cheerleader. The boat rocks dangerously and Aomine stiffens; Imayoshi catches the fish in his hands and somehow it doesn't slip away from his grip.

"You should be more careful," says Imayoshi.

He's looking out at the way the sunbeams filter through the clouds and onto the surface of the water, but Aomine can tell he's smirking. Either way, having this argument yet another time isn't worth it (but there's no way he's getting back to that cheerleader now).

They catch enough lobsters in the traps to sell and have some to eat themselves that night, dip the juicy tails into butter melted over the stove as they lean their elbows forward on the table. Even after the meal, Imayoshi tastes like the bitter saltiness of the open ocean when he fists a hand in Aomine's shirt and kisses him.

* * *

35. Shut Up (Hara Kazuya/Yamazaki Hiroshi)

The first time they get past first base, Yamazaki makes it abundantly clear that everything he knows about sex he knows from watching low-quality free internet pornos. It would be laughable if Hara didn't want to actually come at some point—it occurs to him that he really should record this weird warbling sound that Yamazaki apparently thinks is sexy and play it for everyone, but then he remembers that he was expecting to not be able to think coherently right now.

It's not like he thought Yamazaki was a sex god or something, but he honestly didn't think it would be this bad. Jerking off to still photos on the internet would be better than this.

"Yamazaki, shut up," says Hara.

Yamazaki scowls. "That's not very sexy."

"Neither is whatever the hell you're doing. Can you just blow me or something?"

Yamazaki blinks.

"Like, put my dick in your mouth and suck on it."

"I know what you mean," Yamazaki grumbles.

He wiggles down on the bed, another thing that he probably means to be sexy—seriously, it's like he prepared a script or something. Hara might think it was cute—if he wasn't himself and Yamazaki wasn't Yamazaki.

Apparently, Yamazaki does know how to give a decent blow job. It's too bad Hara's cock can't be in his mouth all the time, because if it was Yamazaki probably wouldn't say so much dumb shit.

* * *

36. Perfect Ache (Fukuda Hiroshi/Furihata Kouki)

Fukuda's never rough, always soft with his kisses and touches and motions, and it's _boring_. Furihata's not a priceless vase; he's a person, and if Fukuda thinks he'll break if he presses too hard on muscle and bone with his fingertip, he doesn't know Furihata at all.

"See, the thing is," Fukuda says sheepishly, "you're so gorgeous and I don't want to do anything to mess that up."

"I'm okay with it," says Furihata, and he waits until Fukuda's staring into his eyes to say it. And then he says it again.

Something in his voice releases something deep within Fukuda, and he bites against Furihata's neck. Furihata gasps; it feels thrilling and intimate and it aches in a perfect way.

Fukuda looks up. "Was that…?"

Furihata doesn't know if he'd finish that with "too little" or "too much", and he doesn't want to know, either. He swallows Fukuda's words in his mouth before they can be uttered and feels Fukuda's mouth gradually soften into a smile against him.

He doesn't have to ask again.

* * *

37. Video Games (Takao Kazunari/Kuroko Tetsuya) for anon

Tetsuya leans back against Kazunari's chest. "This really can't be a convenient position."

"Hmm, I guess not," says Kazunari. "I can still see the screen, and that wouldn't really be a problem anyway."

He presses a kiss to the side of Tetsuya's neck and Tetsuya squirms.

"Please stop that," says Tetsuya. "I won't be able to concentrate."

Kazunari hums and rests his chin on Tetsuya's shoulder. Tetsuya allows this, grazes the inside of Kazunari's ankle with his foot (that's fouler play than a kiss on the neck, if anyone's asking Kazunari) and focuses his face on the loading screen.

They play a few rounds of fighting, but honestly it's kind of boring. Kazunari would rather watch Tetsuya furrow his brow just the slightest bit and feel his body tense up. Tetsuya is fascinating, much more so than an animated superhero fighting match. Tetusuya's character wins, and Kazunari drops his controller.

"Good game," he says, and kisses Tetsuya on the neck again.

Tetsuya sighs. Kazunari trails kisses up Tetsuya's neck and over his jaw and cheek and hugs Tetsuya tighter to his chest. Tetsuya turns his head to the side and meets Kazunari's lips with his own. Kazunari hears the second controller fall to the ground and then Tetsuya shifts his weight and turns. He's now sitting sideways on Kazunari's lap, and he brings one hand up to rest on the side of Kazunari's head. His touch is hot and Kazunari leans into it, reflexively closing his eyes.

A key clicks in the lock. Kazunari frowns. Tetsuya had said that his grandmother would be on a day trip with her senior citizens group and his parents would be working all day. Tetsuya doesn't seem particularly fazed about the intruder, so perhaps that's a good sign.

The door bangs open.

"Hello, Kagami-kun."

"Kuro—" Kagami doesn't even finish the name. He seems to register the scene before him, the television and the dropped controllers and Tetsuya and Kazunari. Kazunari grins and waves.

"Long time, no see."

Kagami manages to stagger forward, gaping, and Midorima pushes past him.

"I don't see what has caused you to lose your ability to speak so—what."

Midorima starts to stammer, unable to form full words or sentences but seemingly more able to function than Kagami. Tetsuya sighs and gets up.

"I'll make some tea."

Once they've all gathered around the kitchen table, Kagami and Midorima seem to have regained the color in their cheeks and the use of their vocal cords.

"Since when were you two…doing that? Why didn't you tell me?"

Tetsuya shrugs. "About a month."

Midorima glares at Kazunari, pushing up his glasses. "I understand why Kuroko did not inform this idiot of your, ah…relationship. But why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't want to let anyone know," says Kazunari. "It was fun keeping it all to ourselves, you know…no one prying into our relationship. I thought we would have been found out by now, but…"

"Again, I understand why you wouldn't want too much publicity. But am I not your best friend?"

"Did you hear that, Tecchan? Shin-chan said I was his best friend!"

"Clearly, I'm not," says Midorima.

"Aw, don't be mad," says Kazunari. "You were the first to know. Come to think of it, why are you guys here, anyway?"

"We met on the way over," says Kagami. (His face is still red and he's still not breathing evenly, but he seems to be taking it better than Midorima overall.) "He was looking for you, and he knew you were at Kuroko's house, so I offered to let him in because I had a key."

"Tecchan, why does he have a key to your house?"

"In case Kagami-kun gets lonely."

Kazunari starts. "What? Are you cheating on me?" He's only half-kidding.

"Kagami-kun lives by himself, so in case he wants to come over if he's tired of cooking for himself and wants the company of others, he always has an open invitation."

Kazunari snakes an arm around Tetsuya's waist and Tetsuya leans into him. He looks up and gives Kazunari what on him passes for a reassuring smile and Kazunari smiles back. Even if Tetsuya did at some point have romantic feelings for him, Kagami wouldn't have noticed, anyway.

"Well," says Midorima. "I suppose I'll allow it."

Kazunari snorts.

"You could do much worse, Takao."

"What the hell do you mean by that, huh?" says Kagami. "You saying Kuroko's not good enough?"

"I never said that," says Midorima.

"But you implied it."

"I never thought you were intelligent enough to understand something that subtle."

Kazunari looks at Tetsuya; Tetsuya nods. Quietly, they slip back into the living room.

* * *

38. Possession (Kagami Taiga/Aomine Daiki) for anon

Aomine's hot; Kagami would be the first one to admit that. He could spend (and, as a matter of fact, he has spent) hours just thinking about how toned his thighs are and the width of his shoulders and the definition of his abs and his back muscles, oh, god the back muscles, and the way he moves is something else entirely, fluid and sleek and gorgeous as fuck (and don't get Kagami started on Aomine's sweet, tight ass and his ridiculous arms). But he's very uncomfortable with other people finding Aomine attractive—not that they shouldn't, because he won't stand for his boyfriend to be called unattractive, either. But they shouldn't even think about putting the moves on Aomine because Aomine belongs 100% to Kagami. Kagami's not jealous or worried; he knows he stands up damn well against any potential competition, and that's not the issue. He just doesn't like that other people look at Aomine like he's a piece of meat, like he could be theirs, like he's already theirs and doesn't know it already.

(Besides, there's the added bonus of Aomine's smirk when Kagami puts his arm around his waist or intertwines their fingers, and as much as Aomine is Kagami's Kagami is Aomine's.)

* * *

39. Not (Hayama Kotarou/Kiyoshi Teppei)

Kotarou isn't soft, physically; he's all bony elbows and recesses and dents around his hips and collarbones that jut out awkwardly and he forgets to cut his nails and they dig into Teppei's wrist when he grabs it because he can't reach all the way around. He's got no problem comparing his own teeth to fangs, refuses to get them filed down. His voice is like a smoke alarm with a low battery, ear-splittingly loud and continuous. His words have a sharp flavor, sometimes unintentionally, but they still sting (he's made a lot of enemies) and most of his smiles, baring those teeth of his, glint dangerously.

But to Teppei, Kotarou is softness itself, the mussed-up morning bedhead and hands entwined inside down coat pockets and slow blinks and the cushion under his knee and a genuine laugh and lying in the blanket of grass and looking up at the clouds; Kotarou is the cliché softness of the clouds themselves—he knows they're made of water but they conjure up something entirely different in his mind.

* * *

40. Glad (Susa Yoshinori/Wakamatsu Kousuke)

Wakamatsu's still got a hair trigger temper, screams obscenities when he stubs his toe and automatically whirls around and pushing the blame on someone whenever something goes wrong and is generally loud and angry about a lot of things and it's best not to inquire about what.

But sometimes he's quiet, much more often than he was once. His mouth creases into a jagged but somehow soft smile; his hands are relaxed rather than clenched into fists; he sits at ease. Susa's glad of it, whatever the reason, not just because he's more pleasant to be around or because happiness looks good on him (although those are most certainly true)—there are a million reasons that he can't explain, like the way his mind goes blank when Wakamatsu really grins and the way he kind of likes it when Wakamatsu engulfs him in a crushing, happy embrace.

He kisses Wakamatsu on the forehead before they go to bed and Wakamatsu hugs him again, pushing their bodies together with all his might.

"I love you," Susa says softly.

"Yeah," says Wakamatsu. "Yeah, I love you, too."

Then, as almost an afterthought, when they're already drifting off, Wakamatsu adds, "You make me happy."

Susa wakes up the next morning with his hand cupping Wakamatsu's cheek.

* * *

41. Fadeaway (Mibuchi Reo, Akashi Seijuurou)

Who decided on the name "fadeaway" for a shot like that? From a technical standpoint, it makes some sense—the shooter is falling and moving away from the defender while he shoots, but in a way it's the opposite of fading. The shot is strong (if it is a good one); the shooter makes something of a surge forward.

And Reo certainly does not fade. Even Akashi cannot tear away his eyes from the sight of his beautiful fadeaway, the perfect release of the ball from his fingers, the angle at which he falls backwards, the length of his arms. It is then that he appears as a demon, truly terrible and fearsome and captivating. If anything, he burns brighter the farther he falls.

Akashi lets himself smile for a moment, but then he casts out these thoughts. They have a game to play right now; he can think about semantics later.

* * *

42. Echoes (Kuroko Tetsuya/Furihata Kouki)

They'd made plans to practice outside; both of them have the day off from their part-time jobs. Of course it would rain today after two straight weeks of sun. It's not a light drizzle or intermittent showers; it's a full-on downpour.

The community gym is open; no one actually wants to go out in this today just to go to the indoor basketball court. Their hair drips onto the floor, and the squeak of their wet sneakers on the dirty floor echoes across the gym, empty but for the two of them. Soon enough, they're breathing too hard and they've lost track of the score and they lean against the wall to try and steady themselves.

Kuroko's somehow managed to muster up some of his long-gone misdirection because his dry lips smash against Furihata's. Furihata's sure his heartbeat is so loud it echoes across the gym louder than their footsteps did, louder than the roar of a gameday crowd would.

* * *

43. Drum (Mibuchi Reo/Hayama Kotarou)

Kotarou drums his fingers on Reo's arm when they're just sitting and doing nothing, and at first it annoys Reo. He tells Kotarou to stop; Kotarou continues anyway—and he gets used to it. It's actually pleasant, sometimes, when they're in bed and half asleep and the drumming is steady and slow and keeps Reo from falling into another dream, or when they're sitting on the couch watching television together. Kotarou's always in motion, anyway; if it wasn't the drumming he'd be tapping his foot or bobbing his head to some invisible rhythm. And it's kind of cute and more than a little reassuring the way Kotarou's always touching him, always in some sort of contact, like he needs to feel Reo's skin under his. At this point in time, Kotarou's touch is more familiar and comforting than his favorite sweater or the right position on the couch.

And he's like a dog wagging his tail; the faster he drums the more happy and excited he is, and lately Reo's had to wonder if this is what it feels like to be a basketball, dribbled by Kotarou—but the matching smile and the way Kotarou snuggles down into Reo's chest make thoughts of basketball disappear.

* * *

44. Thankful (Susa Yoshinori/Kobori Kouji)

Life is chaotic. Work is stressful; familial duties are many; Susa barely has time to think for himself sometimes. But somehow he'll come home on Friday night and Kouji will have already made dinner and they ease into a comfortable silence. With his friends, there's this pressure to talk about work or life or something, but Kouji knows how Susa's sick of talking and thinking about work and how all he wants to do is catch his breath.

They go out for ice cream afterward, and Susa insists on paying, because fair is fair and Kouji made dinner. The early spring breeze, Kouji's hand on the small of his back, the sweetness of pistachio ice cream melting in his mouth—this is it; the stress is melting away.

"Thanks," Susa murmurs into Kouji's collar.

"Mm." Kouji kisses him lightly on the forehead. His lips are still sticky from the ice cream.

* * *

45. Enough Time (Kise Ryouta/Takao Kazunari)

Their archnemeses are time and space, always coming together to force them apart—one with its scarcity and the other with its abundance. Voices over phones are filled with static; video feeds cut out; text on a screen conveys far less than they need.

When Kise comes to Tokyo, he's always got work and then his sisters want to see him and then he has to get the last train back to Kanagawa so he can get to school on time and between all of these things he barely has time to eat, let alone see Takao. Sometimes, Takao meets him at McDonald's when he has forty-five minutes left before the train and they buy large diet sodas and hold hands under the table while they talk and sometimes when they get desperate they jerk each other off in the dark alley by the train station, both of them keeping as quiet as they can. This isn't how to do a relationship properly; everything is rushed and in the wrong order and with the wrong frequency and they don't know what to say (wanting and liking is not enough, but loving seems like too much) so they tread carefully around the issues and only speak of fickle things. They're both good at pouring out their hearts to strangers or less-receptive friends, but when someone who's paying such close attention is listening everything is turned on its head.

The train pulls away from the station, and Takao wishes desperately that they'll have enough time to figure out how to say what really matters before it's too late.

* * *

46. Rust (Imayoshi Shouichi/Sakurai Ryou)

Sakurai always smells like spices and something fresh (not fresh linen or fresh fruit, something different that Imayoshi can't put his finger on) and a trace of rust, enough to make him off-putting in just the way that Imayoshi likes. He tastes rusty, too, bitter and sort of like blood even when Imayoshi doesn't bite the inside of his lips; his tongue is hot and wet and soft and way too tentative, so Imayoshi has to take the lead even when he really doesn't want to, and he's getting tired of finding new ways to push Sakurai to the edge over and over again. Still, the way Sakurai whines and flinches under Imayoshi's touch never gets old, and neither does the way he jerks his head up and pushes his rusty tongue into Imayoshi's mouth at exactly the right time.

* * *

47. Unpredictable Weather (Susa Yoshinori/Kobori Kouji)

They said it would be cloudy, not a torrential downpour, but apparently they lied. Susa sighs, wiping the gathered raindrops from his eyebrows and upper lip and right cheek where they've somehow stuck, trying to stomp off all the water from his boots on the carpet outside of Kobori's door.

"Got caught in the rain, huh?" Kobori says with that wry smile of his that grasps at Susa's stomach and makes him want to kiss it off Kobori's face.

So he does, raindrops rubbing off on the roughness of Kobori's unshaven chin and water dripping from his hair onto Kobori's shoulder and the hardwood floor. His sweater is soaking Kobori's t-shirt, and Kobori doesn't care. He leans into the clammy coldness of Susa's body briefly before he straightens up.

He walks down the hall and Susa follows, taking off his sweater and shoes. The floor is warm, and the kitchen is warmer still. The teapot is steaming on the stove; Kobori hands Susa a cup and takes one for himself. By the time Susa takes the first sip there's already a warmth spreading inside of him, and when he bumps knees with Kobori under the table it only increases.

* * *

48. Curtain (Yamazaki Hiroshi/Furuhashi Koujirou)

Furuhashi always passive-aggressively shuts the curtains every morning, blocking the light and going right back to sleep on the edge of the bed. It's always tempting to push him off and sometimes Yamazaki does, especially when he's kind of enjoying the early morning light and actually waking up in the morning for once. Furuhashi tells him not to be such a self-centered idiot and closing the curtains had nothing to do with Yamazaki and that he should learn to deal with it. Yamazaki gets up and opens the curtains again and Furuhashi's completely awake by now, which means there's a slim chance of sloppy morning shower sex. (Not that Furuhashi doesn't know what Yamazaki's doing, but that doesn't seem to matter.)


	2. February

Drabbles 2014 Part 2

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Note: This chapter contains material originally published in February 2014

* * *

49. Views (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Izuki Shun)

Chihiro is eloquent and articulate in exactly the ways Shun has always tried to be, always wanted to be. The way he seems to do so much with just a few words is insane, it's like he's generations wiser than Shun. The one-year gap between them feels larger than it should; Shun feels like he's closer in age to his youngest sister than to Chihiro, especially in terms of maturity. It feels, more often than not, that he's letting Chihiro down. Chihiro doesn't start off condescending, but he expects more, he's somehow gotten this idea in his head that Shun is mature and should be making jokes deeper than one-off puns.

"You're capable of more than that, you know," Chihiro says.

"I still haven't mastered the art of the pun," says Shun.

"Well, then, perhaps you should give up?" says Chihiro. He turns the page in his book.

Shun sighs, leaning against Chihiro's shoulder. "I won't."

"Stubborn brat," Chihiro mutters.

He squeezes Shun's hand, and Shun refrains from making a pun here—but just this once.

* * *

50. Pillow (Susa Yoshinori/Aomine Daiki)

Aomine's lost track of the number of times he's fallen asleep on the couch and woken up to find Susa sitting on the floor in front of him, using his body as a pillow or a head rest. It's annoying and weird; Aomine tells him this and Susa just shrugs in response and tells him that it didn't seem to bother him while he was asleep. Too soon, he finds himself getting used to this, the weight and the warmth of Susa's head on his back or his shoulder, and when he's still disoriented and half-asleep he can reach out and rest his hand on Susa's shoulder. He'd never tell anyone, of course, because Kise would probably start spouting bullshit about deep connections and Tetsu would give him that stupid smirk and Satsuki would say something about how he was finally growing up and that's not really the point. It's something, well, kind of special, and he'd rather keep it between the two of them.

* * *

51. Boundaries (Himuro Tatsuya/Araki Masako)

There will always be boundaries between them, Tatsuya realizes, boundaries that can't be erased—because of the age gap, because they were once teacher and student, because of their fundamentally different upbringings in different countries under different economic statuses and different familial situations. Even though they're both lonely, they're both so used to isolating themselves and not reaching out that they're still lonely together. It's only a matter of time before they break apart, and they will mourn what wasn't and what will not be—but even now they're mourning what will not be because of their own stubbornness and self-sabotage.

* * *

52. Study (Iwamura Tsutomu/Sakamoto Kenjirou)

Sakamoto would rather nothing else than to study Iwamura, his absolute power as a basketball player and the warmth of his demeanor and the way he gestures with his hands when he talks. He's wonderful, enthralling, and he doesn't seem to notice it, always puzzled when he feels Sakamoto's gaze.

"I'm not going to go away when you're not looking," Iwamura says.

"I know."

He puts his hand in Iwmura's, fingertips barely extending past the edges of Iwamura's large palms. Iwamura pulls him closer; the rumble of his chest as he laughs is beautiful and Sakamoto closes his eyes. He supposes he can study Iwamura non-visually, too.

* * *

53. Cut (Mibuchi Reo/Hayama Kotarou)

Once again Kotarou's not being careful, and once again he manages to get a deep cut on his arm from scratching it against the corner of the backboard. Everyone's used to this by now, but Reo can't help but worry, anyway, and he refuses to let the team managers or Coach Shirogane handle the cut.

He scolds Kotarou while he cleans off the blood with antiseptic wipes; Kotarou whimpers and Reo tells him that he wouldn't have to feel so much pain if he just watched where his arm was in the first place. Kotarou won't hold still, even when Reo tells him he has to, but somehow there aren't too many problems with the bandage and his arm gets wrapped securely.

When he's done, Reo sighs. "Please try and take care of yourself."

Kotarou leaps on top of him and kisses him on the ear. "Reo-nee is the best."

Reo can feel his face heating up. "Did you hear what I just said?"

"Yup!" says Kotarou. "Roger."

"Now will you let me go so I can go back to practice?"

Kotarou loosens his grip but pouts. Reo kisses him on the forehead and he brightens up immediately.

* * *

54. A Little Bit Out of Season (Kobori Kouji/Hayakawa Mitsuhiro)

Hayakawa bemoans the fact that their relationship started just after the holiday and now he's going to have to wait almost a whole year to kiss Kobori under the mistletoe. He's persistent and totally hung up on this, which is just so Hayakawa—Kobori doesn't know whether he should laugh or roll his eyes or try to tell Hayakawa that it doesn't matter, anyway (because it's not like Hayakawa's not kissing him whenever he pleases, already, in public and completely without shame). So he goes to the department store and buys a sprig of fake mistletoe on clearance and brings it to school, presents it to Hayakawa on Valentine 's Day. Hayakawa is overjoyed, makes Kobori hang it up on the ceiling above his bed because he can't reach it himself and then jumps on, pulling Kobori's face close to his and kissing him repeatedly. When he's finally done with this, he squeezes Kobori into a hug and starts shouting about how this is the best valentine ever. He's so adorable that Kobori doesn't really mind the way his ears start ringing.

* * *

55. Violent (Ishida Hideki/Haizaki Shougo)

Haizaki's a violent guy, knows how to punch and kick his way out of every situation, can cut precisely with a knife, has injured countless opponents on the basketball court. But all of that pales in comparison to what he can do with words; Haizaki reads other people and twists what he finds the same way he twists their basketball skills, to his own advantage and to their detriment, robs them of self-worth and amplifies self-doubt. He cuts right to the core in a jagged slit, wants to see the wounds he creates fester and the skin rot away because that's the mark he leaves. And no matter how many times they make up and restore the uneasy balance, Haizaki will destroy their relationship, destroy Ishida, over and over again, like an explosive ball of hate. Ishida's constantly torn between leaving him for good because Haizaki's awful and no matter how much Ishida reminds him they're there he ignores his redeeming qualities and staying because he's too damn stubborn to not stick it out and because there's still a chance somewhere that maybe they can reconcile everything. He hasn't been proven right, but he hasn't been proven wrong yet, either.

* * *

56. Blinded by the Light (Mayuzumi Chihiro/fem!Izuki Shun) for anon

"Hiding it from her does nothing," Izuki says. "The illusion only makes you lose one."

Hyuuga looks like he doesn't know whether to yell at her for an inappropriate pun or ask her the right way to tell her. Izuki decides for him.

"Just confess, okay?"

(The sooner he confesses, the sooner he'll get over her, the sooner he might—no, she can't think that right now.)

"Doesn't she tell you these things? Like, in your secret girl talks or whatever? Like, who she likes?"

Izuki twists a strand of hair. "It doesn't really…come up."

At least, she hasn't told Riko about her own affections for Hyuuga, has wanted to keep their thoughts away from each other. She's selfish; she knows it. It hurts too much. Hyuuga says he doesn't like girly girls but then he chases after Riko, Riko who worries about her haircut and thinks about cute animals and wears short skirts on the weekend and talks about weddings and draws flowers in the margins of her notebooks when she finishes the lesson ahead of time (and she always does). Riko is so feminine, so obviously female, especially next to Izuki (too tall, always playing sports on the guys' team, chest so flat it barely qualifies as an a-cup, messy appearance, always treated like one of the boys) that she wants to cry sometimes. She will never be enough for him, not next to that sparkling laugh and that brightness, and if she tried she'd only compromise herself. It's no use.

At least Riko likes Kiyoshi, has confided blushingly in Izuki. Izuki can see what she likes about Kiyoshi, but is at the same time angry for Hyuuga's sake, because even though he's oblivious there's a reason she loves him so much. And he's willing to do anything for Riko and she doesn't realize it, and either way this ends will bring Izuki heartache and she can't bear it anymore.

"I have to go," she mutters and runs off, willing herself to not use Eagle Eye to look back at his face one more time, to capture it once again in her mind.

(-)

Mayuzumi nods thoughtfully, His hand is still holding his place in the paperback novel but his eyes are fixed on her face.

"You're like a shadow, Izuki-san."

"Hmm?"

"You're standing off to the side and if she's as bright as you say, she's like the sun. He's staring straight at her and away from you, and because of the angle you are directly behind him. He only has to turn around to find you but he's so captivated by her that he won't."

"So by the time he looks for me, the sun will have sunk? And I won't be there?"

He sucks in his breath. "Okay, that was a bad analogy."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He reaches across the table and tilts her face up. "It's his loss."

He's being so kind that her eyes start filling with tears, but he catches them before they fall with his thumb, brushing it across her cheek as her shoulders shake.

* * *

57. Showers (Moriyama Yoshitaka/Izuki Shun) for anon

There are advantages to Izuki's eagle's eye that include, but are not limited to, the way he knows when everyone's gone from the Kaijou locker rooms, even when Kasamatsu has nagged him to hurry up and he's had to reassure Kobori five times that he'll catch up later and he's fine, just trying to look his best for the ladies. He wonders if they really care enough to check his lies, but he'd rather them not know because they'd make a big deal out of it.

Izuki slinks in, hair still wet and shoes untied as he slips his bare feet off of them and pads across the tiles, shedding the rest of his clothes as he goes. He reaches the showers when Moriyama does, both naked and clearly ready.

The knob twists soundlessly; water pelts them at high pressure and Izuki shudders and grinds his hips against Moriyama's. His firm thighs and hard cock send corresponding waves through Moriyama's body; he threads his fingers through Izuki's soaked hair and tilts his head up, kissing his mouth.

He tastes clean, tap water and toothpaste and soap, hips still moving against Moriyama's and hands redirecting the water away from Moriyama's waist. Moriyama's other hand travels down Izuki's back, trailing wet taps until he reaches Izuki's sweet bottom; no matter how much Izuki works out it's still soft to Moriyama's touch.

Izuki whines into Moriyama's mouth, mutters something under his breath that Moriyama is pretty sure is a pun—and though Izuki's are quite clever, he's only got one thing on his mind now. He slips a finger into Izuki's tight hole, feels him shudder curls the finger inside. Izuki looks at him, face twisted into an expression that's awfully cute—and Moriyama inserts another finger. Even inside, Izuki feels so clean.

He supposes he was overeager and that he probably should have used lotion, so he withdraws his fingers and squirts some into his palm, watching Izuki's eyes as he rubs the lotion all over his fingers. He puts the two in again and Izuki squeals; with his other hand Moriyama fists Izuki's cock. Izuki's head lolls; Moriyama adds another finger and then moves them all inside of Izuki—he's getting pretty stretched out now.

Once again, Moriyama takes out his fingers and pumps more lotion, this time fisting his own cock with the oily substance. Izuki's already positioned himself by the time Moriyama's ready, legs spread and back to Moriyama.

God, that ass really is fine. Moriyama takes a second to admire it before he plunges in, reaching around to stroke Izuki's cock and then his balls. Izuki's whining and thrusting and doing all the work for Moriyama (not that Moriyama isn't grateful). Meeting his hips with Izuki's is easy; their pants and moans mix erratically with the steady pounding of water on tile floor and Moriyama can feel Izuki getting closer, cock pulsing under his touch, ass clenching around Moriyama. Izuki comes with a shout, back straightening out and spilling come all over Moriyama's hand and onto the floor of the shower. Moriyama pulls out and finishes himself quickly and comes onto Izuki.

Izuki's eyes are glazed and half-shut; his eyelashes are beautiful with the water droplets on them, almost picturesque. Moriyama leans back as Izuki cleans himself, enjoying the view in bliss.

* * *

58. Lack of Stealth (Aida Kagetora/Nakatani Masaaki) for anon

It's probably better that they didn't go to the club, because they could only get away with so much there, even among the noise and lights and people. They're both too noticeable; Tora knows he's just got this thing where he draws people to him (Eiji says he's loud, but Tora prefers to think he's charismatic) and Masaaki is incredibly attractive, even when he tries to deny it. He's even more attractive when he's wearing sweatpants and an old tank top, long arms tantalizing. He knows it, too, is planning on torturing Tora, but Tora will be having none of that. He waits for Masaaki to go get out beer and creeps up behind him and presses him against the refrigerator. Masaaki's bigger and stronger, but he gives in with an exasperated sigh and something muttered under his breath about Tora's one-track mind.

* * *

59. Openings (Imayoshi Shouichi/Nijimura Shuuzou) for anon

The first-year starter on Teikou is a forward. He's big enough to be a forward at the high school level, probably—in height if not in muscle. He's gaining, though, and he might just be on the level of Imayoshi's most adorable kouhai, even if he's not as cute. He's already angry, and not in the typically I'm-twelve-and-whining way. It's certainly interesting, and Imayoshi intends to know more about him. After all, if he's going to assemble a team of the best players when he gets to high school, this kid might be a good addition.

Imayoshi doesn't intimidate the kid (Nijimura is his name); Teikou wins. Hanamiya seethes; it's not attractive—Imayoshi pats him on the head and he gets angrier. Teasing him is so easy that it's almost not fun. Imayoshi has no time for that, quickly showering and dressing, intent on finding Nijimura.

He's not easy to miss, standing at the vending machine. Imayoshi slips up and puts enough coins in the machine for two bottles of Pocari, purchases them, and hands one to Nijimura with a smile.

"What's that for?" he says. He scowls; his lip curls intensely the way it did on the court when he was driving past Imayoshi.

"Congratulations on your victory, Nijimura-kun," Imayoshi says.

"Who the hell told you my name?"

"The rosters are publicly available," says Imayoshi. "Do you not know mine? I'm Imayoshi Shouichi."

He holds out his hand. Nijimura glares at it for a second and then slowly extends his own. Their eyes lock as they shake firmly. Nijimura still seems wary. It's a shame; there clearly isn't enough time to get him to open up today (the team will probably be leaving soon and Imayoshi doesn't want to miss the opportunity to get Hanamiya's opinion on a few plays that were definitely not executed well enough). At the very least he ought to make sure that Nijimura remembers him. Their hands are still clasped firmly, and Imayoshi pulls Nijimura's up quickly to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

Nijimura punches the air where Imayoshi's face had been a moment ago; he's quickly making his escape (and it was narrow; the boy really does have good reflexes). That should be memorable enough.

* * *

60. Banana (Koganei Shinji, Mitobe Rinnosuke) for anon

He can't risk buying a dildo and having his mother or his nosy sister find it; it's easier if he just uses something that he can dispose of.

Like a banana. It's squishy but it fits inside him all right, with enough lube, stretching him out but more pleasurable than painful. He bucks his hips up to try and move it in deeper, deeper—he wonders how deep it's possible to get it. With his other hand he strokes his cock; his mouth is open and panting. He jerks his hips again and closes his eyes. The door creaks and he sits up; it's probably another false alarm.

Except it isn't It's Mitobe. He looks at Koganei, at the banana sticking out of his ass, and then pointedly away, blushing. He backs slowly out of the room and shuts the door.

Koganei has never been more thankful that his best friend does not talk.

* * *

61. Snowman (Kise Ryouta/Midorima Shintarou) for 73n

Midorima squeezes his shoulders together and buries his hands deeper in his pockets; he really should have known that a short walk in the snow with Kise would turn into Kise frolicking and building a miniature snowman. There's really not enough snow to make one and it's not the right kind of snow, doesn't stick together enough to be built up into any sort of shape. Kise persists, but it's a losing battle. He puffs out his red cheeks and looks at Midorima for help.

"I'm not wearing gloves," says Midorima.

Kise pouts.

Midorima sighs and takes his hands out of his pockets. "When this is over, we're going home."

He lets Kise hold his hand on the way back but only because he's wearing Kise's gloves and Kise's pockets are much flimsier than his. Kise's smile is almost radiant enough to melt the ice on the sidewalk as he chatters away about how cute their fifteen-centimeter snowman was.

* * *

62. Magic (Hayama Kotarou/Hanamiya Makoto)

Kotarou flops back onto the grass, dragging Makoto down on top of him. Makoto tries to smash Kotarou's chin with the back of his head, but it's too sharp and somehow he gets the worse end of that deal. Kotarou's way too damn skinny to lie on top of, anyway; his hipbones are digging into the skin Makoto's lower back and his ribcage presses uncomfortably against Makoto's shoulders. Even though he has a good few centimeters on Makoto, he's got to weigh significantly less, and it's always been this way. Makoto scowls and digs his elbow into Kotarou's side.

Kotarou appears not to notice. "It looks so much more magical this way, huh?" he says.

"What, the fireworks? I can explain the science behind them again if you'd like."

"Geez, Mako-chan, you're no fun."

Makoto rolls his eyes. Yet another instance of Kotarou really not getting it—like when Makoto bites Kotarou's lips, it's definitely not okay to bite back (especially not when his teeth are that sharp, holy shit) and it's not okay to hold him in a death grip when he's trying to fall asleep and it's definitely not okay to cry so much when you're practically an adult, or be this forward. He's like an overly-friendly cat, unable to tell the difference between friendly people who are going to feed him and people who are going to torture him. Not that Makoto's worrying about him or anything. But the only one who's allowed to fuck with Kotarou is him (not that it ever apparently has any effect—he's only ever made Kotarou cry purely by accident, like when he showed up fashionably late to a date and Kotarou cried because he was absolutely sure that Makoto had gotten run over by a truck).

Kotarou nuzzles Makoto's neck.

"We're in public, idiot!"

Kotarou ignores him yet again.

* * *

63. Sadistic Valentine (Imayoshi Shouichi/Akashi Seijuurou) for anon

"Well, the rose petals and the handcuffs are romantic, but I'm surprised you're not going to give me any pretty lines like 'be mine' or 'you're a sweetheart,'" Imayoshi drawls from his position, naked and locked to the bedpost.

"You're already mine," says Akashi. "And you're not very sweet."

"You wound me, Seijuurou," says Imayoshi.

"That can be arranged," says Akashi.

Imayoshi licks his lips. Akashi straddles his midsection and places a soft kiss on Imayoshi's forehead and twists one of his nipples. Underneath him, Imayoshi sucks his breath inward and Akashi nearly loses his balance.

"You mustn't do that, Shouichi."

"Really," says Imayoshi.

He rolls his hips and shakes his shoulders as best he can from his compromised position. For the briefest of moments, Akashi's eyes widen. His stomach clenches. Well, then. He certainly hasn't played all of his cards yet. His lips curve into a smile—well, it's always a bit of a challenge when Shouichi's involved.

* * *

64. Spoiled (Mibuchi Reo/Hanamiya Makoto) for anon

Makoto enjoys being spoiled, perhaps too much—he expects attention and praise from everyone around him, is unused to receiving less than a certain amount, becomes very obviously unsure when he has no one to prop him up with words of encouragement. He still has a hell of a lot of growing up to do despite his vast intellect, and Reo has to try very hard not to spoil him more than he needs to be spoiled—Reo gets a certain amount of pleasure from Makoto's pleased expression, but Makoto's not a cat (no matter how much he hisses and scratches).

He's awfully cute, though, sleeping with his head on Reo's shoulder, snoring softly, small hands relaxed for a change. It can't do too much harm to let him get away with this much. Reo tucks Makoto's hair back behind his ear and squeezes his hand; Makoto moves closer. Who, Reo wonders, is really being spoiled right now?

* * *

65. Mouth (Murasakibara Atsushi/Midorima Shintarou) for huongyukapham

When Atsushi deep-throats him Shintarou feels like he's on fire, the wetness surrounding his cock fueling the heat rather than extinguishing it. He yells some garbled mixture of syllables, all of his thoughts combined at once—even with closed eyes and held breath it's still a mixture of agony and ecstasy, undeniable pleasure and a burning need deep inside of him to be fulfilled. He tightens his fingers around the violet strands of Atsushi's hair; Atsushi digs his nails into Shintarou's upper thighs and Shintarou curls his toes. Atsushi drags his tongue slowly over Shintarou's balls and he's seeing stars again as Atsushi hums down the shaft, barely aware of the rest of his body anymore.

* * *

66. Tenth Heaven (Izuki Shun/Takao Kazunari) for anon

Takao's smile, while certainly not a rare occurrence, is infinitely beautiful and precious to Izuki. The way his warm golden eyes light up is captivating and lovely, no matter what he's smiling about. His laughter is even more wonderful, tumbling from his mouth like shooting stars (and being with him is a once-in-a-lifetime shot for Izuki) at Izuki's jokes or his friends' antics or the world in general. And his happiness is contagious; whenever Izuki touches him his face seems like it's going to crack in two because he's smiling so wide and he doesn't even care because he's already in seventh heaven (well, tenth heaven if they're going by jersey numbers).

* * *

67. Oral Fixation (Murasakibara Atsushi/Akashi Seijuurou) for bookwormism101

Atsushi is used to tasting things, and that is what makes his mouth so capable. His tongue roams inside Akashi's mouth, running over his palate and flicking his teeth in ways that even Akashi had not been aware of. His lips kiss and suck every part of Akashi's body in a different way; he rarely adds his teeth—he doesn't need to. Beneath the shallow exterior, Atsushi really is quite creative. He does, however, always bite the back of Akashi's neck, leaving an obvious mark every time. And Akashi doesn't mind terribly, provided that he makes a matching one on Atsushi's body that can't be covered easily. Because while Akashi already knows that he is (only in a manner of speaking of course) Atsushi's, the world ought to know that Atsushi is taken.

Atsushi doesn't mind. He gives Akashi that lazy smirk and cups his jaw in one cavernous hand, signaling his acceptance.

* * *

68. Whole New Game (Ogiwara Shigehiro/Mochida)

The years peel away like the skin from an onion, and in an instant they're right back where they were the last time; the frustration and confusion and tension and anger and indescribable things fill the air and Mochida can't breathe.

Shige can't, either; he's standing stock still and the difference in their heights is still the same and Shige still has a baby face and he still looks like he's carrying the weight of five worlds on his shoulders behind the smile that's rapidly sliding off his face. Does he still regret them? Does he still hate basketball? Is it Mochida's place to ask these things, to think these things, right here? Shige tucks a lock of hair behind his ear in the same way he always has and Mochida really wants to lean across the counter and kiss him over the cash register but this is a public coffee shop and Shige probably still hates him, still can't stand thinking about the memories of their time together, entwined with the sport he fears and loathes. Mochida takes a deep breath.

"A medium green tea, please."

Shige nods. Mochida hands him the exact change and his fingers brush Shige's calloused palm and Shige looks down at the register, away from Mochida's eyes.

"Thank you."

(-)

If he's anything, Mochida is patient. He can make this cup of tea last, can stomach it when it's lukewarm without a grimace, can read and reread the newspaper. He'll wait for Shige to get off, and if he's rebutted again then he won't have to wonder what if, the way he's been wondering these past four years.

He doesn't have to go after him; Shige sits down across from him, still not quite meeting his eyes.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," says Mochida.

It's 4:33 PM. Mochida has counted the minutes since they last spoke, since they last touched, since they last kissed, and as Shige's lips meet his he resets all of his internal clocks. The overtime deadlock has ended; it's time for a new game.

* * *

69. Preparation (Akashi Seijuurou/Furihata Kouki) for anon

They cook together; despite Kouki's shaky hands he's actually okay around a stove, and he was the one who insisted they not have any servants in the house—and Seijuurou enjoys it very much. Neither of them can make very complicated dishes, but a lot can be done with a few simple ingredients, and most things are much quicker and even more basic when two people are doing them instead of one. Sometimes the back of Kouki's hand brushes Seijuurou's forearm when they're both cutting vegetables, standing closer than is strictly necessary—and Kouki blushes every time without fail. He's endearingly predictable, and Seijuurou teases him about it as they're eating dinner sometimes (after all, they're living together, so something like this shouldn't even count for anything). And Kouki's cheeks flare again, but he still meets Seijuurou's eyes over the meal they made.

* * *

70. Too Much Coffee (Akashi Seijuurou/Izuki Shun) for mjssvanny

Izuki sits at the table, bleary-eyed and staring at the blank screen of his phone.

"Shun, you've had three cups of coffee," says Akashi.

Izuki starts, pitching slightly forward before sitting up again. "Yeah, I think I'll go forth and have a forth," he says, yawning.

Akashi raises an eyebrow. "Your choice of words aside, that might perhaps be too much."

"My heart is hardy," says Izuki. "Besides, I'm not awake."

Izuki stands up and leans over the table to kiss Izuki on the lips. His mouth is bitter and unresponsive, even as Akashi runs his tongue over Izuki's teeth. His back begins to strain and he straightens back up. Izuki blinks.

"On second thought, I'm feeling more awake now," he says.

* * *

71. Bittersweet (Izuki Shun/Kiyoshi Teppei) for mmomoi

It could be bittersweet, that they're together now and only now, after Kiyoshi's knee failed and when they can't play ball together anymore, when they can't walk as far as they want together, but Izuki won't let it be. It's better to let go of the bitterness as much as possible, to acknowledge but not let it win, not let it drag them all the way down.

It's like milky coffee, sweet and smooth but with something else underneath—but it's easy to concentrate on the hollow of Kiyoshi's wrist, his light laugh as Izuki bounces more and more pun ideas off of him, the way he says Izuki's first name half-hesitantly, his morning bedhead and sleepy head, the softness of his mouth over Izuki's and his saccharine tongue.

* * *

72. Relaxing (Hayama Kotarou/Miyaji Kiyoshi)

Tropical vacations are a frivolous waste of cash, but if Hayama insists on taking Miyaji, he'll go. Maybe Hayama will go on volcano tours and do dumb touristy shit like that and Miyaji can relax on the beach with a nice drink in his hand and get a tan.

He should have known better. Hayama insists on getting up at ass-crack o'clock and dragging him off on hikes and tours and other excuses for Hayama to run around like a remote control car gone haywire while. His nose is burned and when they get back to the hotel he falls right to sleep and barely has time to shower and skips shaving completely. By the fifth day, he refuses point-blank to accompany Hayama.

Hayama looks devastated. "But why?"

"The sun isn't up and I'm fucking exhausted and I came here to relax. You can go on the goddamn tour without me."

"But Miyaji-san…today we're going to see the coconut trees!"

As tempting as the prospect of throwing a coconut at Hayama is right now, Miyaji shakes his head and rolls over.

And then he feels a familiar weight drop on top of him. "I'll stay with you!"

"You're awake and I'm asleep; you'll get bored," says Miyaji. "Go see your damn coconut trees."

"But I wanted to see them with you," says Hayama. "It wouldn't be the same if I was by myself."

"Whatever, I don't care," says Miyaji. "But get off of me, whatever you do."

He wakes up several hours later to Hayama curled up against his chest. When he's not moving and yelling, he's not entirely unattractive. The skin on his nose is peeling and he's smiling and his hand is clutched around the hem of Miyaji's t-shirt, which is fine as long as Miyaji doesn't need to go anywhere.

* * *

73. Six (Aida Riko/Akashi Seijuurou/Murasakibara Atsushi/Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou/Kise Ryouta) for anon

Akashi's the one controlling everything; he's the one whose lips touch her face, the jaw and the mouth and the bridge of the nose. His mouth is surprisingly warm; perhaps she shouldn't have expected his body to be as cold as his personality. Kise's hands are lightly drumming on her back and neck; he sucks the soft skin on her shoulder gently and murmurs things her ears can't quite pick up (they sound nice, though). Aomine tweaks and licks her nipples erratically, occasionally running his hand down her sternum or across her rib cage and making her shiver each time. Murasakibara's giant hands are working her thighs; he licks trails down one or the other like rivers and presses his fingers deeper than she knew her skin could give. Midorima, fingers smaller than Murasakibara's (not that it matters, really; they're still big) and far more dexterous, is teasing her entrance, brushing her clit, working one finger inside of her and then pulling it out, and this is perhaps the most unexpected thing in this whole series of events. He slides his tongue between the folds of skin; she weaves her fingers through his hair and grips tightly. This is a sensory overload, and she doesn't know how much longer she's going to last. But they don't seem like they're going to quite any time soon.

* * *

74. Sick (Akashi Seijuurou/fem!Mibuchi Reo) for flutterizou

When she's sick, Reo is especially stubborn, absolutely refuses to take her medicine. She insists she's fine, even when the sweat is plastering her hair to her forehead but she's still shivering under the covers. Eikichi tries to force her down and place the pills in her mouth but she clamps it shut and rolls over onto her back and he's too weirded out by the whole situation to continue trying, so that as a method is out. Kotarou's no help and no one else wants to get near her when she's this sick, so Akashi supposes he's on his own.

The Eikichi method works no better when he's the one trying it; she still shies away, whispering refusals and whimpering as she sinks beneath the covers. He's almost tempted to give in to her—but she's really being ridiculous. She's pulled the blanket above her face. He places the gel caplets in his mouth, between his bottom teeth and lower lip.

"Reo," he says, voice unchanged.

She peeks out. He leans down, touching their foreheads. She's burning; he nearly winces. Their lips meet and he gently flips his lip, depositing the pills in her mouth. She pulls away, but not before swallowing automatically. She's already swallowed the pills.

"Sei-chan, you're horrible," she says. "I hate you."

"I know," he says, smoothing her hair back from her face. "Now get some rest."

She rolls over and buries her face in the pillow. He sits back down; he'll wait until her fever breaks. Her palm is turned up, out from under the covers, and he places his hand inside. Their fingers lock. He smiles.

* * *

75. Too Childish (Akashi Seijuurou/Imayoshi Shouichi) for anon

Seijuurou is such a child in so many ways, so used to getting his way. He's incredibly high-maintenance and it's more of a bother than a challenge for Imayoshi at this point. He can't feed the unquenchable ego and he's not enough to humble the boy by himself (and he doesn't want to have to be). It's a pity, really; they could have been something—both of them are intellectuals; both of them play their hands close to their chests, but Seijuurou overreaches and tears down boundaries that he really has no right to, breeds resentment around him. Imayoshi's not exactly a pleasant man, but he's careful; he's more subtle.

And such is the way of things. Seijuurou is cute when he sleeps, smirking even in his dreams. He really is quite small, and his cheeks are plump and he curls his body, tangling the sheets around him. Imayoshi adjusts his glasses. He might as well leave before Seijuurou can stop him, and he's already been more sentimental than he ought to.

* * *

76. Senpai (Miyaji Kiyoshi/Akashi Seijuurou) for anon

Akashi is such a little fucking punk. He's more of a brat than Midorima and Takao combined—maybe they're all members of the "annoying shitty kouhai guards club" or something, and Akashi's president because of course he fucking is. And if he thinks he's going to take the lead in this relationship—not that it's like that or anything—he's dead wrong. So everyone in his life has bent over backward to accommodate his selfish desires? That's going to stop right here and now if Miyaji has anything to say about it.

"I'm your senpai, you got that?" he says, aggressively biting a hunk out of his sandwich.

"Oh?" says Akashi. "I'm surprised you think that matters, Kiyoshi."

"You fucking didn't," says Miyaji. "Who the hell said you could use my first name? I don't remember doing it."

"I don't need your permission," says Akashi. "I am absolute."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" says Miyaji.

"Know your place," says Akashi, and Miyaji suddenly feels a pressure gluing him to his seat.

He glares daggers at Akashi, who continues to eat as if nothing is going on. There is definitely nothing attractive about that haughty gaze, nope. It's just bratty, that's all it is.

"Fuck you," says Miyaji.

Akashi leans across the table and places his mouth over Miyaji's. A few seconds later, he breaks the kiss and whatever hold he had on Miyaji.

"Don't use such foul language."

Miyaji's tongue is tied, but he can still collapse with his face on the table.

* * *

77. One Track Mind (Kagami Taiga, sorta KagaHimu) for anon

He tries to stop himself, but the thoughts are too tempting and he's always home alone and no one's going to walk in and stop him and he's naked on the bed after the shower except for the chain around his neck and he doesn't want to get dirty again but he feels an itchy sort of ache deep inside of him that he can't shake off.

He takes a deep breath, pours some lotion on his hand, grabs his cock. The lotion is cold; he flinches, hand loose as he works himself up. He's going to think about…something. Something hot, something that's not…him. There are more suitable fantasies. He's supposed to be thinking about women, isn't he? How about a woman with long, dark hair and smoky eyes and big breasts who wears lacy underwear? He can only picture vague things in his mind, certainly nothing that turns him on. He tightens his grip as he strokes himself; he's hard now.

He tries to focus, tits, tits, tits…it doesn't work. Tatsuya invades his thoughts, his dirty thoughts, the contours of his face in the late afternoon, the way he licks his lips to get off the extra salt from the fries and taking off his sweat-soaked shirt to reveal a chest that's way too pale for someone who spends that much time in the sun, muscles gleaming in the sunlight, back lean but strong. The shorts are low on his waist, Taiga imagines them falling lower, lower…he's seen Tatsuya naked before, of course, but even thinking about it in this context makes him blush. He tries to imagine Tatsuya getting hard himself, Tatsuya getting closer. He clutches the ring around his neck; he tries to remember the sound of Tatsuya's voice, the exact changes of pitch when he's excited. He squeezes his eyes tighter.

"Nn…Ta..tsuya…" Taiga's voice comes in short bursts.

Speaking seems to only further his fantasy; he moans again and feels himself come closer and closer to the edge. Again and again, he says the name, lets it roll off his tongue a dozen different ways, rolling it into a rhythm until it almost loses meaning. He comes in the middle of a syllable, voice breaking and hand yanking at the chain.

He lies on the bed, dirty and ashamed but momentarily sated. For a moment he wishes he had company of a certain sort—but in this mood he can suppress that kind of thought much easier.

* * *

78. Spill (Takao Kazunari/Midorima Shintarou) for anon

The hawk's eye does Takao no good when he doesn't use it; if he's focused on the person beside him he's not going to notice the gap between planks on the patio floor and he'll pitch forward and fall into said person. In this case, it's Midorima, and he doesn't get out of the way in time—Takao's head slams into his can of shiruko, tipping it backwards so that the dark liquid splashes all over Midorima's light blue shirt. Takao manages to steady himself by grabbing Midorima around the neck; Midorima almost falls himself but he manages to keep on his feet.

He splutters. Takao's not sure if he's more upset that he can't drink the rest of the soup or that his shirt is dirty. Well, no matter. The shiruko is soaking through the fabric and he's just standing there.

"Sorry," says Takao, and he hooks his hands under the fabric, feeling the smooth skin of Midorima's hips under his fingers.

"What are you doing?" Midorima hisses, flushing.

"You need to take this off," says Takao.

"We're outside! People can see," says Midorima.

"Oh, you want to go back in?" says Takao, quirking an eyebrow upward. "There's something you want to do inside, hmm?"

"Takao." His face is darker than the stain on his shirt now; teasing him is way too much fun.

"You're the best, Shin-chan."

He leans up to kiss Midorima, and he receives no complaints from that at least.

* * *

79. No Way Out (Susa Yoshinori/Momoi Satsuki)

At this point, Susa's got no way out. He's fallen too hard for her; she's too much of a kindred spirit for him not to. He's been around basketball players for a pretty long time, but none of them have approached the game with a know-everything approach the way he does; no one devours information and tries to analyze it the way he does. He reads every basketball magazine he can get his hands on, tries to commit to memory the stats of every professional and semi-pro and high school player, catalogues a list of plays inside his head, draws from that. Momoi is the same; she gathers data and analyzes it based on her prior knowledge and formulas that she still refuses to divulge to him, with stunning accuracy. By the time he realized he had fallen for her, it was too late, and she'd already known (the way she knows everything) and had ensnared him. Well, it's not a bad trap to fall into, all things considered. He enjoys her company, her humor, her intelligence—not to mention she's easy on the eyes.

What a girl like her is doing with a guy like him he doesn't really know sometimes, but he won't jinx what they have. It's infinitely precious; she's infinitely precious; her hand's half the size of his and her slender throat is the perfect size as it vibrates with the sweet sound of her voice in his ear.

* * *

80. Paint (Kiyoshi Teppei/Kagami Taiga)

The walls and ceilings are peeling, white flaking off to reveal the rusty lead paint underneath. They could hire painters, but they could do it themselves for a hell of a lot cheaper so before they move in they spend a day with just each other and rollers and trays and buckets and ladders. The fumes are disgusting and the work is tedious; they're sweating even with all of the windows cracked open. But at the end of the day, they've done it together, and even though they haven't moved any stuff in this place feels a hell of a lot like a home now. The paint is splattered on Teppei's face and he scrapes it off in the bathroom mirror (that needs to be cleaned, too, but that's a smaller job for another day) while Taiga watches, running his arms under the scalding bathtub tap. On the way back to Teppei's grandparents' house, Teppei won't let go of Taiga's hand and Taiga's embarrassed and his palms are sweaty but Teppei looks just too damn happy for him to have the heart to do anything like that.

* * *

81. Pulse (Akashi Seijuurou/Furihata Kouki)

Kouki's resting pulse is slow and steady (of course; he's an athlete) but Seijuurou can usually only feel that kind of rhythm in his wrist or his thumb or his temple when he's asleep, palms unclenched and mouth soft and shoulders relaxed. When he's awake, he's jittery and nervous almost all the time—except, perhaps, when he's lost in a book and completely in another world from everything around him. Sometimes, though, Kouki can be calm, when he's just woken up and gives Seijuurou that sleepy-eyed smile and buries his face in Seijuurou's chest (and Seijuurou cannot stop his own pulse from speeding up just a bit). Kouki is at his best when he's at his most shameless, when he forgets his fears and inhibitions and just lets it be, and Seijuurou wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

82. Cinnamon (Mayuzumi Chihiro/Mibuchi Reo)

Mayuzumi's like cinnamon, innocuous enough but spicy; he leaves Mibuchi's mouth raw and numb. When Mibuchi wakes up alone again, the spot next to him is faintly warm and smells like him; Mibuchi breathes in the scent and wants it to cling to him, wants to be sure that Mayuzumi was really there. He has a knack for slipping through Mibuchi's fingers even as Mibuchi tries to clutch him tighter.

"Stay," Mibuchi whispers; Mayuzumi's lying limply in his arms and Mibuchi knows he'll wait until he's sleeping to slip out and get dressed and go back to his room and Mibuchi will wake up at 5 AM, asleep and confused and lonely as hell yet again.

Mayuzumi's probably glaring, thinking he's an idiot because this is nothing more than sex; it can't even be called friends with benefits because they were never friends in the first place, but Mibuchi doesn't care because if he doesn't try he'll be stuck wondering even more.

Mayuzumi doesn't leave until the morning. He doesn't stay very often after that, but every once in a while Mibuchi will wake up with his arms full and a smile on his face.

* * *

83. Addiction (Furihata Kouki/Fukuda Hiroshi)

Furihata's love of books is like an addiction at this point. It's not like Fukuda's anti-literacy or thinks reading is boring or for squares or nerds; he enjoys the more-than-occasional light novel or science fiction novel. But Furihata reads voraciously; when he's not reading he's thinking about books, about characters and situations that don't exist. Countless dates have ended up with them at the library or the used book stores looking for new books; it's not like Furihata has read everything already but he's very particular about what kinds of books he likes; he sometimes picks up something after looking at the cover and then his mouth quirks down when he's skimming the blurb on the back and he places it back on the shelf.

Fukuda gets books down for him that he can't reach and carries stacks for him without complaint; Furihata always thanks him and apologizes but Fukuda smiles and tells him it's all right because it is. He's doing what he loves, what makes him happy, and when he's happy Fukuda's happy, too. And he's come to enjoy the quietness of the library, the soft sounds of Furihata's footsteps on the carpeting, the musty smell of Furihata's favorite book shop and the way the light filters through the high windows like it's a church. And maybe for Furihata, it is (but that doesn't stop Fukuda from kissing him in a decidedly inappropriate way, stack of books smashed between the two of them).

* * *

84. Photos (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto)

Reo insists that they send him photos whenever they go on vacation (yet another item on the endless list of reasons why they shouldn't) and he bugs Eikichi every day about when he's going to get them, and eventually Eikichi gets fed up and pulls out his phone.

Getting Makoto to pose for a photo is impossible, as it is Eikichi's kind of worried about his phone ending up broken. He can try to grab Makoto with one arm and press the button with the other hand, which is how they usually end up taking their requisite picture, Makoto biting Eikichi's thumb and struggling and the picture being blurry as fuck and Reo complaining anyway, but it's never really worth it, especially if they have to explain to random, alarmed-looking people that Eikichi's not actually kidnapping Makoto or anything.

Makoto drinks too much red wine at dinner, the faintest flush appearing on his pale cheeks (he will always try to keep up with Eikichi despite their size difference; he never wins) and the slightest wobble in his legs—Eikichi wordlessly offers his arm; Makoto momentarily debates whether to decline because he's too strong or take it because he needs it and he chooses the latter, face haughty as he draws himself up to his full height and Eikichi tries not to laugh.

He falls asleep as soon s his body hits the bed, not bothering to take off his shoes or his suit and tie, and Eikichi seizes the moment, praying that the shutter won't be too loud (Makoto's a pretty heavy sleeper, though). He smirks at the camera and presses the button. The shutter clicks; Makoto stirs but his eyes don't open. Quickly, Eikichi types in Reo's number and sends him the photo.

A few seconds later, his phone lights up. Reo's text is short and, of course, complaining of something. "I can't tell where you are from this picture!"

"Tough luck," Eikichi types in and then puts the phone down.

He's done his duty and right now he'd rather just join Makoto in sleep. But first he changes the phone background to Makoto's sleeping face, cheeks pink and corners of his mouth turned upward. He ought to be able to keep it for a couple of weeks until Makoto finds out.

* * *

85. Zombie (Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga)

Kagami's a zombie when he comes back from LA and has to readjust to the time zone, constantly in a groggy haze for a few days, half-dreaming and he can't be trusted to do anything for himself although he tries to cook and almost passes out over the stove before Aomine relegates him to the living room while he finishes the eggs. Kagami eats them and thanks him and doesn't even complain about them being too spicy the way Aomine makes them like he usually does and by the time Aomine comes back from doing the dishes he's asleep on the couch and Aomine joins him and they both wake up sore. Kagami's clingy when he's tired, as if he's not sure he's awake and this is real, constantly brushes his hand against Aomine's knee and it's so damn frustrating because he's not awake enough to actually have sex and Aomine's especially horny because Kagami's always been away for way too goddamn long. And then Kagami wakes up after a few days and starts acting like a little shit again and trades insults with Aomine and Aomine pretends to wonder why the hell he missed him when it's even clearer now.

* * *

86. Perversion (Kirisaki Daiichi team, fem!Hanamiya Makoto) for flutterizou

Going over strategies after practice is difficult to say the least when the first string players can't be bothered to listen, instead directing their attention to a porn magazine lying open on Yamazaki's desk.

"She's not my type. Her eyes are too far apart," says Yamazaki.

"Dude, why are you looking at her eyes when her tits are right in front of her like that?" says Hara.

Hanamiya grabs the magazine and hits Hara on the head with it. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, jealous, aren't we, Hana-chan?" says Hara.

Yamazaki snickers. "Rio-chan's tits are so much bigger than hers she can't comprehend it."

Hanamiya drops the magazine and pulls Yamazaki's tie, twisting it around his neck. He struggles, pulling against it, but it's tightening and he starts to sputter. He leans forward and the desk topples over. Hanamiya releases him as he falls and manages to roll out of the way before the desk hits the ground.

When he sits up, Hanamiya's sitting a few meters away, hair disheveled and cradling her arm. Shit. She wouldn't let herself get hurt, right? She's dodged 190-centimeter guys on a basketball court when they fall; she can dodge a little classroom desk.

She looks up at him through her long, dark lashes. "Yamazaki…you wouldn't hurt a girl, would you?"

"Well, um," says Yamazaki.

She drops her arm and leaps to her feet. "Kidding, dumbass. I can't believe you fell for it."

Despite her words, Furuhashi has walked over to Hanamiya and seems to be checking her for injuries. Or maybe he isn't; he seems to be staring down her shirt.

"Quit gawking," Hanamiya snaps. "You act like you've never seen a woman before."

"I was looking at the ground," says Furuhashi. "Besides, there's nothing to look at."

Hanamiya flushes a bright red and kicks him in the shins.

"Hey, loser, wake up," says Hara, who is pinching Seto on the wrist.

"Stop pinching," says Seto, not bothering to take off his sleep mask.

"What do you think about Hana-chan's tits?"

"All breasts are good as long as they fit in my hands," says Seto.

"Why the hell are you even thinking about dirty things like that?" Hanamiya shouts, clenching her fists.

Yamazaki snorts. Hanamiya grabs her clipboard and throws it at his head.

* * *

87. Pretty Dirty (Himuro Tatsuya/Kise Ryouta) for anon

Ryouta's face is flushed and his breath is shaky and his palm is flat on the crown of Tatsuya's head. Underneath the self-assured, flirtatious exterior, he's clearly inexperienced and has no idea what he's doing. His toes are curled and his lips are overflowing with sweet sounds; he's not sure what to do with himself—he wants Tatsuya to take the lead but at the same time wants to be assertive, wants to be responsive. It's quite cute, actually; he's so eager to spread his legs and put Tatsuya's head between them, so eager to come, and he does, with a shout, into Tatsuya's mouth.

Tatsuya swallows, releases Ryouta from his mouth, and sits up. Ryouta's grip on him has slackened; he flops back on the bead and his hair is mussed gloriously. He's smiling, different than his usual catch-all smile, not as wide but five times more splendid, glowing like fluorescent lights when viewed through a low-hanging icicle.

"You're still…" he says, gesturing toward Tatsuya's hard-on.

Yeah he is, but the chances of them coming at the same time were pretty low from the get-go. He's about to brush the hair back from Ryouta's forehead and tell him that he can handle it, but why should he? Maybe he can, but that doesn't mean Ryouta can't.

"Got any plans for it?" he says.

Ryouta props himself up on his elbows and his exhilarated smile turns into a smirk. "Come here."

Damned if he isn't a quick learner. The things he does with his tongue and his lips only support that notion.

* * *

88. Check Out (Liu Wei/Fukui Kensuke)

There are some advantages to the twenty-five (it's no more than that, got it?) centimeter difference between Fukui Kensuke and his boyfriend, and chief among them is that it makes it damn easy to stare at Liu's ass. He's grown again and those uniform pants are slightly too small for him in all the right places (okay, so it looks totally dorky at the bottom where Liu's trouser-sock-clad ankles are visible to the world and Fukui does not miss the opportunity to tease him about that) and…wow. That should not be legal. (Fukui idly wonders what the fuck he did with the handcuffs; it'll be fun to see if he can try and scare Liu into thinking pants that tight are actually against the law.)

* * *

89. Handle (Hanamiya Makoto/Momoi Satsuki) for anon

She sees through the way he obscures his meanings with lies and half-truths and implications; no one has ever been able to do it so efficiently before, even Seto—it's beyond irritating. But she's too dangerous, knows too much already, for him to shake her off or even want her gone—and that's the only reason, okay? She makes him uneasy, but her absence makes him even more uneasy.

Her eyes glow in the dim light when they're debating basketball plays, listening to the game on the radio and then turning it off at halftime, constructing and deconstructing mental images of how things played out without having seen them, gesturing with their hands—they could be working or sleeping or doing something else entirely but they're preoccupied with debate, with being right, with each other.

She's rougher than he'd figured, meets his moves with her own, strikes first some of the time—her long nails are talons and her limbs are small but strong; she can handle him and that is perhaps what scares him the most about her.

* * *

90. Cat Meets Cat (Hayama Kotarou/Koganei Shinji)

Their faces are alike but different; their bodies move in a similar, almost feline way. Koganei can't tell if he likes it or not, to be honest. It's not enough that Hayama's the better forward; his eyes gleam almost crazily, the same way his teeth do—he can almost feel them cut into his skin from across the court like the ends of the wires he used to wind around tennis rackets that poked into his skin and made him wince and shudder. His trajectory is that of a tennis ball, fast and incomprehensible to Koganei; he wonders if, like the tennis ball, it's not worth it to just keep chasing when he'll never catch up. But Hayama's a hell of a lot more captivating, more like a laser if Koganei was being fair to him. Besides, once he gets close enough and they stop circling around each other, it turns out he knows exactly what Hayama wants and Hayama knows exactly what he wants.

Of course, whether they'll get around to doing all of it is another matter entirely, but Koganei can more than make do with Hayama licking his ear in just that particular way.

* * *

91. Wrapped Around Your Finger (Himuro Tatsuya/Mibuchi Reo) for anon

Is he doing this on purpose? If he is, how much of it is he doing on purpose? It's hard to say; Tatsuya's so unreadable, and captivatingly so. His expression is placid, with perhaps the barest hint of a smile (or maybe Reo's imagining things again) and their knees are so close together that Reo can feel the heat from Tatsuya's skin. Tatsuya's wearing one of Reo's shirts; it's slightly too big for him and reveals too much and too little at once. It's unfair; he has to know what he's doing—and he has to know that Reo's already his.

Reo's aware he's been staring at Tatsuya's profile; still, he blushes when Tatsuya looks up from the pages of his magazine, amusement now clearly in his face.

"Yes?" he says.

Reo buries his face in Tatsuya's shoulder. Tatsuya strokes his hair and lets out a soft laugh.

"I'm going to get a swelled head, you know," he says.

"Shut up."

Tatsuya hums. Reo wonders if Tatsuya can feel his face burn brighter against his skin.

* * *

92. Enjoying the Night (Takao Kazunari/Izuki Shun) for anon

It started with a "Hawk-Eye've been on the lookout for you," and an hour later Izuki's sure that Haizaki's not the only one who steals moves. Takao's been snatching the puns right out of his mouth (literally, too, swallowing them in kisses and then saying them while Izuki catches his breath) and Izuki's ready to concede, only he's not sure what he has left to give up. He can't even ascertain whether he has anything or not because Takao's mouth is doing those wonderful things to his thighs and he has no idea when his clothes came off and that thought is more coherent than most of the other things going on in his head.

"You're pretty fly, Shun-chan," says Takao as he wriggles out of his pants.

"Well," says Izuki, slowly regaining his breath, "you're not so hawkward yourself."

"Wow, you're on point tonight," says Takao, and before Izuki can respond their mouths are pressed together again.

Takao grinds his hips against Izuki's; Izuki moans into his mouth and tightens his grip on Takao's arms. Takao sighs; his tongue is moving as voraciously as ever and his chest is sweaty, smacking against Izuki's. Takao breaks the kiss and leans back; he's a vision like this to say the least, naked and grinning with his legs spread and his mouth quirked upwards and then he inches back toward Izuki and takes both of their cocks between his palms.

The callouses on his hand aren't too rough and he doesn't squeeze too hard but just enough for the friction to be sweet—but it's not enough. Somehow, even this is teasing, and Takao knows it; his eyes dance and his smile is too cruel. How can he stand it himself?

As if in reply, he speeds up his stroking; Izuki lets out a half-squeak half-moan and lurches forward.

Takao laughs, speeds up; through his half-closed eyes

* * *

93. Always (Kagami Taiga/Fukuda Hiroshi)

Kagami can't express himself well. He's not used to saying these kinds of things, especially not in Japanese. Fukuda tries to be patient among his many doubts; it wouldn't be fair to Kagami to demand things from him that he is not capable of, especially when he is capable of so much. Even when he does manage to say it in a way that Fukuda can understand, it's still filled with caveats; he says "always" but does he really mean it? Is it just a placeholder for a different word, an approximation? So many people say it and mean it but it changes, fracturing later into two timelines, a before and an after, not remaining as a promised continuum. But the future is murky in so many ways, and it's much more complex and hard to comprehend than Kagami is. For all of his stuttering and blustering, he's still quite simple. And he means forever when he says it, the words falling from his lips and pooling somewhere deep and warm inside of Fukuda where he knows it's going to be okay. He can put his faith in Kagami as much as Kagami can put his faith in Fukuda. They've done it in basketball; they can do it like this. Isn't it much easier when there's no buzzer?

* * *

94. Young (Wakamatsu Kousuke/Susa Yoshinori)

Wakamatsu's face is red and his breaths come shallow and sloppy and uneven as he presses his mouth against Susa's jaw and throat and tries to fist his awkwardly large hand in the opening between the buttons in Susa's shirt but just grabs air, sense of perception warped from the darkness and the beer and a million other things; he closes his eyes and buries his face in Susa's shoulder and Susa rocks him back and forth, pulling Wakamatsu closer with one arm and squeezing his ass with the other hand. Wakamatsu's heart thumps against Susa's skin and his groans are hardly muffled (even when he's quiet, he's loud) his mouth is soaking through Susa's shirt and Susa doesn't give a shit. They're young and drunk and in lust and however much their touching it still isn't enough.

* * *

95. Faultlines (Aomine Daiki/Himuro Tatsuya)

Plenty of people call Daiki an idiot, but no one does it quite the way Tatsuya does. The way he says the word is practically overflowing with some bizarre kind of saccharine affection, and it's reserved for very rare occasions—with Satsuki or Wakamatsu, it might as well be his actual name. Tatsuya usually calls him Daiki or (when he's feeling sarcastic) Dear. Aomine might be an idiot, but he knows that Tatsuya exercises quite a lot of patience with him, and trying that patience rarely gets a rise out of him. It's not that Tatsuya's a pushover; he's dangerous. But he won't give up on Daiki, knows the faultlines in his own loyalty but refuses to acknowledge them, and Daiki values that far more than he may seem to.

* * *

96. Wings (Nakamura Shinya/Hayakawa Mitsuhiro)

Nakamura's ordinary, he sits in the middle of the classroom and gets comfortably decent grades and eats his boring packed lunch every day and has a few friends and has an obsession of sorts (that would be basketball) but just keeps it tucked in the back of his mind the way he does all of his emotions; he's always in a state of half-composure. He's always firmly on the ground, thinks about the sky occasionally, how he can't jump high enough to block sometimes and how he can't even begin to think about the sky because he can't get a third of a third of the way there.

But Hayakawa and all of his over-boiling enthusiasm completely unravel him and make him delusional; Hayakawa's hand grabs his and suddenly Nakamura feels like maybe he's going to sprout wings and they'll fly into the clouds together, soaked from the condensation but Hayakawa will keep him from caring, shouting in his ears and pulling their bodies together because despite being soaked to the bone he radiates heat like Nakamura's personal star.

* * *

97. Eternity (Alexandra Garcia)

She dreams sometimes that she can see again, that even if she's wearing glasses they don't make a difference but her peripheral vision is perfect and the colors are sharp and there is a perfect clarity and everything is perfect.

She wakes up to the beep of her phone's alarm, blurry display as she wipes her finger across the screen, desperately trying to swipe it the right way to get the damn thing to shut off and after however long that takes she reaches for her glasses and puts them on and her world comes back into the sort-of-focus it's been in for the past ten years and she wills herself not to cry.

There might be a different world somewhere where she can still see, is still playing professionally, but it's not this one and there's no use in mourning something that is lost to eternity, has been lost an eternity already. Time is wasting.

* * *

98. Wait (Murasakibara Atsushi/Aomine Daiki)

They don't wait for each other but they don't really take it personally when the other doesn't wait for them; they let everything slide and don't push the issue. Neither one of them is especially passive-aggressive; they just don't give a damn most of the time. It's a comfortable way of being, and they put just enough faith in each other that it works. They don't speak with words; they use routines and signals and simple things, locked fingers and open doors and raw kisses and hips grinding so hard and hot it could start a fire.

* * *

99. Sight (Imayoshi Shouichi/Alexandra Garcia)

She goes fishing with him, sits on the edge of the pier, bare feet with dirt-covered bottoms dangling off; her toes are pointed gracefully. She takes off her glasses and puts them beside her, trusting that he will not break them—he's asked her if she thinks this is wise and she shrugs. She's staring off into the blue blur, sky and sea indistinguishable to her. It must be, because her prescription is much stronger than his and he cannot tell the difference with his glasses off (she snatched them off of him once and repeated his question but he did not have to answer; she knew he knew she would not break them or drop them). He stares, too, sometimes, when the fish aren't biting and her hand on his thigh has stilled. Sometimes it's hazy, too polluted, but sometimes the sun is so bright he has to duck his head (he wonders if she's closing her eyes). He's come to enjoy these days more than the ones he spends alone, still—he has better luck fishing on those days but it's just not to worth it. He must be just another fool to have fallen for her, but perhaps it doesn't matter.

* * *

100. Less Than Absolute (Akashi Seijuurou/Midorima Shintarou) for anon

Words ring hollow like the church bells—his parents were Christian; they gave him a religious funeral. The shell was lying in the coffin and the eyes were closed; Akashi had long since memorized the contours of his face, now pinched thin from months of sickness. This was beautiful in an awful, aching way, not like the way Shintarou was beautiful—Akashi's eyes had blurred momentarily when Shintarou had been so precise and sharp, so careful.

His words, of absolution and control, now taste sour on his lips. He maintains the illusion when he meets with potential business partners, looks out for blood in the water, but doubt lies in the shadows, tinged with green, catching his eyes—it's foolish to believe that they will meet again (for all of their years together, Shintarou never convinced Akashi of his belief in the supernatural) but he wants to believe it, so badly, within the deep recesses of himself, to see those bandaged fingers sliding across the shogi board one more time, to see the motion of those thin lips, to hear Shintarou's voice saying his name. And yet, he can't want it—it's too much, too…impossible. Those feelings are locked behind an iron gate, the key buried in that graveyard.

* * *

101. Platonic Kisses (Kise Ryouta, Teikou team) for anon

Kise's girlfriend chewing him out in the gym is both a distraction and an amusement—either way, Akashi's going to fucking murder him after she's done. She jabs him in the chest and sneers up at him, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder.

"Modeling job or not, I don't want you kissing anyone else!"

"Really, it was just platonic. Michiko-san is a professional; she has a boyfriend!"

"Who, you?"

"It wasn't real," says Kise.

"A kiss indicates romantic interest," she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kise frowns, then turns on his heels. "Midorimacchi!"

"What?" says Midorima. "I'm not going to defend you."

Kise walks over to Midorima, grabs his t-shirt, and pulls him down into a kiss.

Midorima slaps him. Rubbing his face, Kise turns back to his girlfriend. "See? I don't even like Midorimacchi, but I still kissed him."

Midorima looks like he's about to fall over. Kise's girlfriend looks absolutely bewildered. Kise walks over to Aomine and kisses him before he can figure out what's going on.

"Kise, what the hell?" says Aomine, making a show of wiping his mouth.

Murasakibara is next; his reaction is positive—he kisses back with tongue. Kise himself looks a little bit shocked, and Murasakibara licks his lips.

"Kise-chin tasted good, like apple candy."

Kise approaches Akashi apprehensively; Akashi raises an eyebrow. "If you're going to do it, Kise, do it. Your practice schedule will be adjusted accordingly."

Kise leans in and pecks Akashi quickly on the lips.

He turns around. "Where's Kurokocchi?"

"I've seen enough," says his girlfriend. "I can't believe you're gay."

"Wait a minute! Tomoko-chan!"

She's already spun on her heels and walked out; the door slams shut behind her.

"I didn't even get to kiss Kurokocchi!" Kise wails.

* * *

102. Falling Slowly (Himuro Tatsuya/Mibuchi Reo) for anon

Reo's pretty sly; it's hard to tell what he's thinking or planning sometimes—Tatsuya knows very well that people say the same about him, but really most of the time he's not planning much of anything. Reo's much more of a clear and present danger, although a danger to what Tatsuya can't really say—his heart, perhaps, if he was feeling like more of a cliché.

What started out as a default companionship, accompanying Atsushi to Kyoto and palling around with Atsushi's boyfriend's self-appointed guardian, has become at least a little deeper. Sometimes the younger set is less involved in their meetings; sometimes Reo comes alone to Akita and joins Tatsuya for coffee or dinner or a one-on-one. Of course he admires Reo's skills on the court—but it's more than that. Reo's form is beautiful, perfectly studied; he understands Tatsuya's approach. Of course, he's much more talented, but that's neither here nor there—it's hard to begrudge him that.

Is it just friendship, though? If it is, Tatsuya can hardly bear it—Reo can be petty, but he's forgiven many people many things over the years, so even if he doesn't feel the same way with time he'll probably let it go. And if he doesn't, well…Tatsuya will cross that bridge when he comes to it. They're hanging out in Reo's room on a rainy Saturday, listening to pop radio, and Tatsuya puts his hand on Reo's shoulder.

Reo turns, eyes bright and questioning, and Tatsuya leans in and places his mouth on Reo's. His lips are soft and taste of tea, and it takes a few seconds before he kisses back. He's a good kisser, not that Tatsuya's surprised, tongue exacting and lips giving just the right amount of pressure.

They break for air and Reo moves closer, resting his hand on Tatsuya's thigh. He's at a loss for words, but his smile speaks volumes.

* * *

103. Valentine (Kise Ryouta/Midorima Shintarou) for anon

"You should know I prefer oshiruko," Midorima says when Kise puts the bag of chocolates in his hand.

"I come out of my way to see you in Tokyo and give you my chocolates of love and this is all the thanks I get?" Kise says, puffing out his cheeks. "It's a Valentine's Day tradition."

Midorima sighs. "Fine."

Kise brightens up instantaneously, hugging Midorima so tightly he can barely breathe.

"Calm down," says Midorima, pushing Kise off of him and adjusting the collar on his jacket.

Kise still can't stop grinning, but he waits until Midorima sets the chocolates on the table to grab his hand.

"Come on, let's go on a date."

"Only if you buy me oshiruko," says Midorima.

"Okay," says Kise.

He's about to open the door when Midorima swiftly kisses him on the cheek and mutters a "thanks". When Kise looks back, he's blushing and staring at the ground and Kise feels like his internal organs have all jumbled up and turned to mush.

* * *

104. Shopping (Kagami Taiga/Mibuchi Reo)

Reo likes the idea of shopping, trying on and buying new clothes and the satisfaction of feeling like he looks good or he's helped someone else look good, but in practice he grows bored with it very quickly. Taiga, on the other hand, loves shopping, and though seeing him try on new outfits is fun (he's got a great fashion sense) he just wants to swipe his credit card and leave so they can do something else (especially because Taiga takes too damn long fussing with his outfit in the changing room). He'll have time to wear these outfits and mix and match them later and it's going to look great, but he looks almost too good, good enough for Reo to want those clothes off right now.

But Reo keeps going; Taiga always wants him to come along so he can get a second opinion (and to show off as well; he's not totally insecure) and it's not worth it to disappoint him. His broad, easy smile is totally worth it (and they go shopping for groceries afterward, which more than cancels out the clothes-shopping-induced boredom).

* * *

105. Sorrow (Shirogane Eiji/Aida Riko)

Her small hand is steady on his waist; her gaze is set straight in front of her. Her expression gives him the strength to hold his own head up a little bit higher—even though Riko didn't know his brother well, her presence reassures him that despite all the sorrow and regret and mourning and shock there is something to steady his rudder and keep him on course; he's fallen into the waves and her grip is as tight as iron shackles around him, keeping him from being submerged. After all, she is no stranger to sorrow—he remembers, if she does not, seeing her at her mother's funeral, placid expression and folded hands. The memory of that, too, of her maturity even at that age (sometimes he wonders if he actually is the older one) is one he thinks of, has been thinking of, ever since Kouzou's second heart attack, ever since he began to fear the worst.

And that's exactly why he can sob in her arms, let out these ugly sounds into the empty night of their bedroom, without shame or fear or apology, with only anguish.

* * *

106. Cast (Kagami Taiga/Himuro Tatsuya)

The die has been cast—again. Change is inevitable, irreversible, but they already know that too well, don't they? It's enough to make half of Tatsuya fearless and the other half completely terrified, because he knows what happens when he casts it with shaking hands, hastily and fucking everything up.

But this time he's not casting it alone; Taiga takes deep breaths and nods and steadies his hands with his own, larger and so much more solid and they lock their eyes and they're in this together no matter what happens and that casts the die right, finally, after years of misunderstandings and miscommunications, as their lips meet over the molten iron.

* * *

107. Untimed (Susa Yoshinori/Sakurai Ryou)

Their first kiss is like a free throw on home court, crowd hushed and collective breath sucked in and the thump of their hearts is the sound of the ball on the hardwood floor and they raise their hopes like arms in the air and the trajectory is ethereal, mouth on mouth and ball spinning through the air surely, landing with a swish—it's the way Sakurai always throws them, in the still gym after practice is over with eyes set like steel and as if he's almost a machine or in the games, even the away game where the crowd is deafening but he's in a soundproof world of his own—only he's brought Susa into that world without a shot clock or a buzzer and it's the most amazing thing.

* * *

108. Sugar Daddy (Imayoshi Shouichi/Hanamiya Makoto) for anon

Makoto sighs. It's not that schoolwork is hard for someone of his level of intelligence, it's just…tedious. He really doesn't need a degree to be qualified for the business world, but unfortunately the rest of the world doesn't see it that way.

Makoto sighs and slumps against the couch cushions. He looks quite cute with his cheeks puffed out like that and his eyebrows knitted. Shouichi reaches over and tucks a lock of hair behind Makoto's ear.

"What's the matter?"

Makoto glowers at Shouichi, almost reaches out to slap away his hand—either his reflexes are getting worse or he's gotten so used to Shouichi's touch that he doesn't feel the need to shove him away as strongly. Or, most likely, he enjoys it and has terrible acting skills. Shouichi returns to answering an e-mail from his publisher; yes, the manuscript is delayed but he's established himself well enough to afford the luxury of crying writer's block.

Makoto sighs again. "This work is so dull. I know how to do it; it's tedious and not challenging."

Shouichi hums. Makoto's "I'm-too-smart-for-school" shtick has gotten pretty old at this point, but it's still amusing and he might actually be right. At any rate, his grades are excellent, which makes his tuition lighter, which makes Shouichi happy and gives him an excuse to spend money on Makoto in other ways. It's very amusing to see Makoto unsure of whether to show ingratitude or act spoiled—and this all comes back to how adorable he is, as he is now, typing furiously away on the computer.

* * *

109. Overwhelming (Takao Kazunari/Aida Riko/Midorima Shintarou) for anon

Takao might be even better at kissing than he is talking; either way he's had lots of practice with his mouth and is clearly proud of it. Riko can barely breathe at the rate he's attacking her lips, tongue moving faster than she can track. It's not that she can't handle it, no way. She most definitely can. It's just that—his lips and Midorima's hands, moving up and down her sides and her legs, are equally distracting and equally amazing. She's known for a while that he can play the piano, and it's as if he's playing some sort of piece on her body, like her body is an instrument and she can't figure out how to move with him, her body going in all different directions. She's sighing and moaning and wailing into Takao's math, embarrassed by how loud she's become, trying to silence herself.

Takao breaks their contact; she opens her eyes and he's smiling at her. "It's okay, Riko-chan, the sounds you're making are beautiful."

She wants to tell him to address her more properly—but then again this situation is hardly proper, is it? Midorima kisses the inside of her thigh, and she squeaks and pulls Takao back down; she knows it won't stop him from seeing her like this because of the hawkeye but it'll make her feel a bit better and that's all she can really do right now.

* * *

110. Clocks (Nijimura Shuuzou/Aomine Daiki)

The sun is setting when he stirs and raises his head, long fingers that had been splayed on Shuuzou's chest curling into a fist. The orange rays of the streaking late spring sun filter through the panes of the gym and give visibility to the countless pieces of dust in the air. He's only been asleep for an hour and a half, but both of them should have gone home already—practice ended two hours ago.

But they had stayed, cherishing the precious few moments they could catch together. Already Shuuzou feels the pressures of time; his parents come home later and later each night and his father's cough worsens and his hair is streaked with gray; his sister is almost as tall as his mother now and stares longingly at stiletto heels in the windows of department stores; he has less than a year left here and he's not sure that's enough. There's not enough time to set everything in motion and make sure the kids can stand on their own; they're more than capable in some ways and completely unprepared in others.

Daiki yawns and smiles at Shuuzou, blindingly bright and beautiful, and Shuuzou flicks his forehead.

"You slept too long."

Daiki's shirt is rumpled and his brilliant hair is sticking up at funny angles and as they haul themselves up Shuuzou sneaks in a quick kiss to the top of his head.

* * *

111. Cones (Wakamatsu Kousuke/Sakurai Ryou)

Sakurai looks so fucking cute with a smudge of pistachio ice cream on his nose that Wakamatsu wants to die. He sinks down in his seat, aware of the way his cheeks feel too hot, hotter than hot even though the sun is scorching and his ice cream is melting—that's still no excuse.

"Um, Kousuke-san, your ice cream is dripping."

"I know!" Wakamatsu snaps, and then he cringes as Sakurai flinches.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. "I'm sorry," they both say at the same time.

Sakurai offers a cautious smile. Before he can stop himself, Wakamatsu leans over and licks the ice cream off.

Sakurai drops his cone. Wakamatsu crushes his own in his fist. Sakurai's far too cute to exist.

* * *

112. Advantage (Takao Kazunari/Kawahara Kouichi)

Takao wants to say he has the advantage here, that he thinks of sharper comebacks quicker and that he's got Kawahara wrapped around his finger, but that's not exactly the truth. It's more the other way around than he'll ever let anyone know, except Kawahara always has this wicked ear-to-ear grin and Takao wonders if he knows—he doesn't know if he should ask Kuroko and what kind of can of worms that would open, and it's hard enough thinking straight anyway when he just wants to hear Kawahara's laugh or see him shrug his shoulders in that way and when he's trying not to run his hand over Kawahara's ultra-short hair. He can't even take comfort in the fact that he's the better basketball player, even though he's constantly showing off in ways he probably shouldn't—on the court, Kawahara's a machine, doesn't raise an eyebrow at Takao's fancy dribble or no-look pass, just guards his man and watches the ball.

Well, Takao's never been one to back down from a challenge.

* * *

113. Details (Kiyoshi Teppei/Kagami Taiga)

The twitch of his mouth when he's tasting the dish he's making and it's not quite what he wanted or expected, the way he winds his finger through the chain around his neck and twists, the furrow of his brow and the way he juts out his chin when he's perplexed and trying to figure something out—just one of these small details is enough to make Teppei's face break out into a goofy grin and his hands twitch, subconsciously reaching for him—he doesn't mind when Taiga notices him looking and blushes (although most of the time he doesn't, so intent on the task at hand or whatever is running through his mind that he doesn't feel Teppei's gaze). He's beautiful and wonderful and he shares these details, these personal bits of himself, is so unguarded and precious—it fills Teppei with a warmth (almost) entirely unrelated to Taiga's body heat.

* * *

114. City (Imayoshi Shouichi/Sakurai Ryou)

The cracked asphalt streets of his calloused palm, the high-rises of his curled fingers, the bridge of his thumb over the wrinkled sheet—Imayoshi's hand is a city. Sakurai stares at it in rapture, afraid even to breathe, committing it to memory, thinking of the way it will feel in his palm, under his pencil and on the page, of all the times he will draw it (because he will, from memories laid over one another like stacked-up sheets of paper). He will remember the angle of the sun through the window and the shadows it casts and the slope of Imayoshi's thin wrist and the color of the sheets and he will remember the pleasant ache of his body and the previous night and reflexively touch the dents in his shoulder from Imayoshi's nails (which will have faded, but he will remember the grooves under his fingertips and the exact spots on his skin). And he will remember the ghost of a genuine smile on Imayoshi's lips, the feeling of having seen it but not quite captured it with his mind, not transferable to the pencil. But he will think mostly about the city contained in an upturned hand.


End file.
